


glass chess

by wearethewitches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auror Harry Potter, Child Abandonment, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Genderfluid Teddy Lupin, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, Harry Potter Raises Teddy Lupin, Lily Page is Evil Queen | Regina Mills' Biological Daughter, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Accidents, Master of Death, Master of Death Harry Potter, Meet the Family, Memory Magic, Other, POV Alternating, Phone Calls & Telephones, Portals, Sex, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Storybrooke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 60,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: wherein, Harry Potter and Regina Mills are the children of Rumplestiltskin and Cora and some things can change everything.





	1. chess pieces i

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to add as a permanent note: if you want to know the fate of a different character not in the main storyline (Grace, Mulan, Pongo, etcetera), you're welcome to drop a review saying so and I'll investigate their life via an interlude/snapshot. Please don't ask about next gen characters - I'll get to them eventually, either in the main story or in a slice of life sequel.

In the Department of Mysteries, there is a door that cannot be opened. Lillian Rose Evans, a young worker in the DoM, as it is called, studies the door. The only internship available in the DoM was given to her when she applied, the other DoM workers quirking their lips and chuckling at her vigour, fully expecting the seventeen year old to grow tired, impatient and disillusioned of their truly _illustrious_ Department. Lillian Rose Evans, however, surpasses expectation, moving forwards in her internship to become a fully-fledged Operative.

Or rather, Lily Potter, by the winter of nineteen seventy-nine. _Names are power_ , other workers mutter at the official, magical change. _Motherhood. Purity._ A particularly literate witch quotes Thomas Blake. _The modest rose puts forth a thorn; the humble sheet a threat’ning horn: while the lily white shall in love delight, nor a thorn nor a thread stain her beauty bright._

Within the Department of Mysteries, alone and working late one night, leans against the door and sighs, thinking of everything she wants and despairs over. James – her love, her husband, her Jamie, her once-hated peer. _We can’t have children_ , she thinks. _I want children, a single child, please. I wish, I wish it **please**._ Her intent is as pure as her name and the door clicks open, Lily falling forwards into a large, circular room, a woman in the centre holding a careful bundle.

“The magic of these doors only allow the same amount of people to leave and enter them,” she says, almost to herself, before she peers at Lily. “That door never opens.”

“It’s open now,” Lily replies under her breath, looking back in amazement at the door, which through, she can see the Department, her old mentor staring at them, quill dropped from his hand. “Did you come through one of the doors?”

“Yes,” the woman says, voice low. “I wonder…take him.” The bundle floats over to Lily, glowing a soft scarlet. Lily is quick to get to her feet, eyes wide because _no, this can’t be right._

“You’re just giving me-” Lily takes the bundle from the air, staring in awe at the baby. Her eyes fill with tears. “You’re just giving him to me?”

“His name is Maximus.”

“Big name for a little boy,” Lily says, mentally scrambling in that moment. _Greatest, given to Roman military men of success._

“Yes. Change it, if it suits you,” the woman waves her off, before heading towards a mirror. Lily glances up at her, before becoming faintly horrified as she disappears.

“Agent, come back inside!” her mentor finally speaks. Lily hears an ominous _creak_ and twists, eyes widening as she sees the door leading back into the Department begin to close, so slowly. Rushing, she slides through the half-open gap, holding the baby boy’s head to her chest. “It opened! You must document everything you saw!”

Lily’s mentor gets to his feet, ordering her about, but it all flies through one ear and out the other as she stares at the child in her arms.

_I want children, a single child, please. I wish, I wish it **please**._

Her wish has been granted.

* * *

Cora feels like something is wrong, with how easy it was to just hand her son over. _The Hat’s Rules are that the same number of people that go in, must come out._ At least that part of the topic made sense – two came out of Wonderland, another from the Locked Door, equalling three persons to return to their lands, no matter the _where_. However, the actual _handing over_ of Maximus…disturbs her.

 _I was not like this with my first child_ , Cora thinks. _She was a hindrance. My best chance at life rested upon her being gone. Maximus-_

She had given her son away, knowing that when the Dark Curse was to strike, he must be grown. Cora will find him later, in twenty-eight years, when the Curse breaks. The second child of Rumplestiltskin, conceived in Darkness, _must_ be used – but none will ever know he exists, except Cora.

_My best chance at life rests upon him staying hidden._

* * *

“What do you reckon that arch was?” Harry questions Hermione as they entered the dark circular room, once more.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, it was dangerous,” she says firmly, strictly flicking her wand and muttering _flagrate_ to inscribe yet another fiery cross on the door. Harry doesn’t nod in agreement as the walls spin again – there was something about the arch that called to him and those whispers…

The next door Harry approaches is locked. His hand rattles the strangely warm handle, as if someone had been holding onto it, but still, the door doesn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s locked,” Harry throws his weight against it, belatedly wondering whether the door opens outwards or inwards, quickly checking, pulling it quickly. Predictably, seeing as _the door is locked, Potter,_ it still doesn’t move.

“This is it, then, isn’t it?” Ron starts excitedly, quickly coming to Harry’s aide as he tries to push it open by sure force. “Bound to be!”

“Get out of the way,” Hermione instructs sharply. They are quick to move. _Nothing good comes from crossing Hermione_ , Harry thinks, remembering the sight and sound of her punching Malfoy in the face. “ _Alohomora!_ ” Nothing happens and Harry has a stroke of genius, even as he feels a tingle in his spine.

_The door won’t open for us._

Still, his hope wins out – it’s a challenge, a game to get the door open. “Sirius’ knife!” Harry exclaims, grabbing said magical blade from his pocket, sliding it through the crack between the door and the wall. A prickling sensation runs through his hand, like static shock or pins and needles and excitedly, he shoves at the door. Nothing happens. Worse, Harry realises, is that Sirius’ knife is melting in his hand. He stares at the silver that drips to the ground, the handle in his hand just that – a handle.

 _Oh_ , his excitement wavers, heart thumping in his chest. Against his shoulder, from the door, he feels a sudden change in temperature, going from cool to a gentle warmth that freaks him out, pulling away sharply.

“Right,” Hermione frowns, “We’re leaving that room.”

 _Flagrate_ tags the door, the red X burning in Harry’s mind as the room spins once more and they choose another door.

* * *

After Voldemort is killed, Harry expects to spend a summer regaining his wits. It’s a tradition that revolved around Hogwarts and knowing that the Auror Academy expected him on the eighth of September for their bi-annual induction, leaves the Man-Who-Conquered free to…

Well.

Apparently the War doesn’t end with Voldemort. Death Eaters are still being tagged and processed, funerals – _oh, the funerals_ – taking place left, right and centre, the Ministry being slowly weeded of corruption and Imperiused workers. Harry, living in Grimmauld Place with Kreacher, who gleefully instructed him on how to reboot the wards and finally rid it of Dumbledore’s fading _Fidelius_ , gets the Daily Prophet every morning. Inside are short, snappy editorials and articles about the continued clean-up.

 _How did I not see?_ Harry asks himself, knowing the answer to his own question. For the last year he’d been busy taking part in a three-man treasure hunt slash assassination quest to defeat the ultimate leader of the Dark Side – he had been removed from everything, uninvolved with the politics and systematic brutality of the new pureblood regime and in general, _the War._ Harry doesn’t know whether to feel guilty about that or not, but tries to keep it to himself as much as he can while still socialising and visiting his new godson, Teddy.

On his eighteenth birthday during breakfast, Harry unexpectedly receives two letters: one muggle, thick and disturbing and one wizarding, that is decidedly creepy, the owl that had been carrying it beady-eyed and too still for a normal post-owl and the envelope covered in red runes that Harry recognises from Hermione’s old textbooks. He opens the magical one first, a little surprised to see the envelope sealed with the Ministry of Magic logo, but far more confused to find the two _inside_ envelopes to be embossed with two completely unfamiliar crests.

“To Harry James Potter,” he mutters, adjusting his glasses on his nose as he opens one randomly. “If you are receiving this, then I am dead.”

Harry skips over the text to the signature and almost has a heart-attack.

_Lily R. Potter_

Harry drinks in the letter, but by the end he is half heartbroken and half sure that this is a prank. Crying over it, Harry ignores the other envelopes – muggle and wizarding, the owl _still not leaving_ – and floo-calls Ron, his haggard friend quickly coming over, Ginny in tow.

“Hey,” Harry croaks at the sight of his ex. Ginny takes the letter, reading over it with Ron at her shoulder.

“Blimey, mate, _adopted?_ ”

“I don’t know whether to believe it or not,” Harry says, before opening his mokeskin pouch around his neck, summoning his mothers letter to Sirius. “Check the handwriting for me?”

Ron takes it, Ginny’s wand tapping each quickly. Harry stares at her, catching sight of livid scars twisting up past the collar of her shirt from her back. He’s snapped out of his emotional daze by Ginny speaking.

“It’s a match. The handwriting is legitimate. Lily Potter wrote this.”

“What about the other letters?” Ron pushes, Harry hesitating before gently taking the second part of his Ministry-forwarded gift. Before he opens it, however, Harry glances up.

“Why would the _Ministry_ be holding letters from my mum for me?”

Ginny clears her throat, “The Department of Mysteries, you mean – that crest, it’s the DoM seal.” Harry glances at the letter’s black wax sealing, eyeing the starburst surrounding otherwise blank wax. “You should probably open it.”

Harry looks to Ron, who nods seriously. Taking a breath, Harry opens the envelope, the letter turning out to be a halved folder. Opening it out, Harry has to blink as a dizziness goes through him, Ginny and Ron both twisting violently away.

“Merlin’s soggy-” Ron starts, before Harry’s dizziness disappears and he can read the file. Once he finishes studying the first page, he flips through the next and the next, skimming the written content, fingers reaching out to trace the people in the pensieve-photographs, his young mother- Lily, Lily Potter, falling forwards through the door and laying there until he- _me, that’s **me** in that bundle_ , is gifted to her unceremoniously.

“Come look, Ron,” Harry mutters, slightly obsessed with the pictures where he can see both Lily and the aptly named Mystery Sorceress. Ron turns, coming to sit by him at the table.

“Finally – invite Ginny to see and she’ll be able to look past the really obvious secrecy spells on this thing,” Ron takes the file from Harry briefly, looking through it.

“Oh, uh…Ginny, come look,” he says, the second redhead turning to face him again. _She looks a bit green_. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t do well with secrecy spells, too nosy,” she gives a strained smile before Harry turns his attention back to the photos, gut rolling with unease at both the situation and their relationship. “What about the muggle letter?”

Harry reaches for it. Going through its contents reveals muggle adoption certificates – where he’s called _Maximus_ and when it comes to professions, Lily and James Potter respectively put _private scientific researcher_ and _private military contractor_ – an official name-change certificate – changing from _Maximus_ to _Harry James Potter_ – and bunch of paperwork that Harry has no hope in understanding.

“I can’t believe this. I’m…I have parents. My mother just…gave me away,” Harry says, voice distant but pained. Ron claps a hand on his shoulder.

“No, she didn’t. Your mum was an amazing witch who sacrificed her life for you.” Across the table, Ginny reaches out, their hands grasping.

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry feels his eyes burning and rubs them furiously. “Thanks. I- I know. Mum and- mum and dad were, are, my parents. Always have been, always will be. Just because my…my birth mother came from behind a locked door-portal room that the file talks about identifying, doesn’t mean she’s not out there though. I want to find her.”

“We’ll help you, Harry, you know we will.” Ginny squeezes lightly, Harry squeezing back.

“I know.”


	2. chess pieces ii

Neutral territory is Diagon Alley – Florean Fortescue’s newly reopened Ice-Cream Parlour and Café, to be exact. Harry sits with a glass bottle of butterbeer, watching Draco Malfoy as he gets closer and closer, flinching as someone sees his face and jumps back, a scrambled scream leaving their lips. He hurries over, sitting down with Harry quickly, briefcase opening on his lap, a square sheet of parchment appearing on the table.

“Write your name at the bottom with this,” Draco holds out a familiar sharp quill, Harry tensing before taking the offered blood-quill. “There are easier ways to find out your lineage, Potter. Your genealogical chart is in several books.”

“It really won’t be,” Harry replies, swallowing as he hovers the quill over the parchment, above the gold runic border. “I was adopted the entire time.”

“…I don’t believe you,” Draco says, voice high. “No. You’re a Potter, through and through. You’re the _spitting image_ of your father, apparently.”

“Yeah, bit coincidental, don’t you think?” Harry glances up as his voice turns bitter, shrugging slightly. “I had a specialist have a look at me – and not just because I was confused about my appearance.”

“And what did they find?” the former Death Eater straightens his shoulders, eyes unblinking as he stares directly at Harry’s face. “You aren’t wearing glasses.”

“No, I’m not,” Harry purses his lips, not really wanting to share. Looking at the parchment, Harry writes his full name, ignoring the painful scratches on the back of his hand. The parchment glows, before shuffling in what – if it were human – would be an annoyed shrug, Harry’s name shifting up three inches as various names start to appear, both in red and black. “Wait, what’s the difference in colours-” Harry starts, before recoiling as he actually reads the names. “What the hell?”

 _Cora_ , his mother, sounds fine – as do his apparent sisters, _Queen Regina Mills_ and _Zelena_ , the second girl being only his half-sister if the lack of connection to his father’s side is anything – however, his father’s side is _actually_ a sham.

“Rumplestiltskin? _Peter Pan?_ ” Harry turns murderous eyes on Draco. “Is this some kind of joke paper?”

But Draco has a rather confused look of his own. “No, the paper if fool-proof, my mother enchanted it herself. I _watched_ her write it out. Red means female, black male.”

“No-one has names like these,” Harry drops the blood-quill on the squared parchment, getting up angrily and stalking away.

“Potter- Potter, wait!” Draco calls after him, Harry ignoring him up until he grabs his shoulder. “Potter, this is not joke-paper.”

Harry twists, fists clenched. “How is it not? Apparently, _I’m the son of a man named Rumplestiltskin Gold!_ ” He hisses, boiling with rage. “How can that be his real name?”

Draco scoffs, “Names are power, Potter. Being named Rumplestiltskin is like being called Zeus or Merlin – it’s not _that_ unusual.”

Harry immediately becomes confused. “What?”

“Potter,” Draco meets his eyes, “I am literally _dragon._ My name is the constellation _draco_ , the dragon. My mother is Narcissa, named for Narcissus of Ancient Greece. Even Arthur Weasley is named after the King of Camelot. While calling your child Rumplestiltskin is unpopular, it is old and overreaching. A child is both blessed and cursed when they have that name. Unlike what the muggles may think, those type of names aren’t so absurd.”

“When did you become an expert on what muggles think?” Harry mutters. Draco rolls his eyes, handing over the square of parchment, neatly folded from the corners into the centre twice over.

“Be glad you didn’t approach the goblins over this – they wouldn’t have appreciated your words.”

“I’m not allowed in Gringotts, after my stunt, not until they’ve finished rebuilding their defences, at least.” Harry smiles briefly, “They invited us to try again and promise a simple execution if we’re caught rather than a long, drawn out, torturous death.”

Draco glares at him lightly. “You shouldn’t joke about that stuff. They’ll actually do it. As I was saying, be glad you didn’t approach the goblins about this. You seem pretty upset, Potter.”

“I have a right to be!”

“I did not say you didn’t,” Draco replies evenly at his anger. “Be careful not to take that anger out on me or anyone else for the sins of your parents.”

“They aren’t my parents,” Harry scowls, “She- _Cora_ just levitated me into my mum’s arms. Couldn’t even be bothered to walk over or tell me our last name.”

“Your…sister, had a last name. Mills. Harry Mills,” Draco smirks a little. “Not much better than Potter.”

“Maximus Mills,” Harry corrects, to Draco’s surprise. There’s a silence between them, before Harry kicks the cobbled ground a bit. “Sorry. Thanks for this.”

“I owe you my life, Potter, it’s the least I can do. Though, your choice of location isn’t very inspired,” Draco glances around. “There are reporters _crawling_ over the street. It’ll be in the papers by morning.”

Harry’s eyes widen, before he groans, the reporters themselves coming out of hiding to snap pictures of them both. Draco laughs at their behaviour, smiling genuinely at Harry’s discomfort-

“Oh, _don’t_ flip the bird at _me_ , Potter – look at them! That’ll be in Witch Weekly before the day’s out!”

* * *

Being the Mayor of Storybrooke is a taxing job. Oh, she could do the paperwork in her sleep, it was always the same problems and she had the skills of a fully-fledged mayor _and_ a queen with almost a decade’s worth of experience – but truly, the taxing part about being Mayor is balancing paperwork with looking after Henry, singlehandedly.

Regina will never regret adopting Henry ever again after her little scare. She’s lucky to be his mother and she wants the best in life for him, the very best.

Crooning at him, rocking slightly, Regina doesn’t expect the phone to go off, startling slightly. Staring at the ringing telephone set, Regina kicks her head into gear as Henry whines, chubby little hands reaching to bat off her shoulders. Picking up the phone, Regina greets the caller, unfortunately while still using her soft voice that usually got Henry to sleep.

“Mills residence, who is it?”

“ _Uh, hi, is this Regina Mills?_ ” the caller questions, Regina frowning at the unfamiliar male voice, the accent unfamiliar except for British crime dramas and Graham. A flash of panic runs through her as she wonders if they’re from the adoption agency. “ _My name’s Harry, though…though I used to be called Maximus._ ”

“This is Regina Mills,” Regina confirms, slightly suspicious, swaying gently. “Why are you calling, Master Harry?”

“ _…so this might come as a surprise, but we’re kind of related, through Cora._ ”

Regina recoils instantly. “How do you know that name?”

“ _She- she gave me away in a kind of weird place._ ”

Regina feels her heart in her throat as she chokes out, “Weir-weird? Gave- who _are you?_ ”

“ _I’m your brother._ ”

It’s impossible. No. _No, this can’t be happening._ Regina slams the phone down on the receiver.

“I don’t have brother.”

Henry wails.

* * *

Harry phones her next week, the same time. His goal is to see whether or not his sister knows about magic and so far, Harry thinks she does, but it really is still all up for debate. Using Hermione’s parents’ phone, the whole gang surrounding him, with only he using the actual phone but her voice on speaker, his friends all put up their opinions. It all starts very awkwardly, after reintroductions, however Harry is quick to speak.

“I can’t really tell you a lot about me, not until I know if you’re aware of some stuff, though obviously that’s a bit vague.”

“ _Indeed. Would you care to elaborate in a way that I might be able to answer?_ ”

“Uh…” Harry glances at Hermione, who nods encouragingly. “Have you ever had strange things happen to you? Things you- things you can’t explain?”

“ _No, not that I recall._ ”

“Did you ever go to a boarding school?” Harry questions next, wincing as she replies in the negative. “Have you…ever been in a circular room with lots of different doors that lead lots of different places?”

“ _…are you talking about the Hat?_ ”

“The Hat?” Harry makes a perplexed face, his friends shrugging their own confusion. “Is that how you enter it from your side?”

There’s a brief moment of silence, before Regina hangs up. Ron groans.

“Sorry, mate. She’s not very trusting, is she?”

“I don’t know, we’re the ones intruding on her life,” Hermione points out. “We’ll phone again next week. Making it a trend could help establish some form of trust.”

“I think she has a baby,” Neville says, causing Harry to blink.

“What?”

“I could hear it, in the background.”

“Yes, I agree,” Hermione nods, Luna humming with a smile.

“The little prince. He’ll be the truest believer of them all.”

“But there’s no boy on the tree under her,” Harry points out, taking the parchment from his pocket and tapping it. “Just under Neal Cassidy.”

“Why’s he a Mills, then?” Ron questions with a furrow in his brow. Harry pauses, before looking at the tree properly – but it was like he said. _Neal Cassidy_ and _Emma Swan_ lead, not to _Henry Swan_ or _Henry Cassidy_ , but to _Henry Mills_. “Maybe she adopted him or something.”

“I’ll ask next week.”

* * *

Regina expects the call, thinking it annoying yet useful that Harry – she doesn’t want to think of him as her brother, who her mother must have had in Wonderland, who her mother _gave away_ – phones at the same time every evening, right when Henry usually wakes up from his afternoon nap.

The phone rings.

She picks up.

“Mills residence.”

“ _Hi Regina._ ”

“Harry,” Regina greets, laying back with Henry on an armchair. He’s snuffling, but a bottle helps him stay calm. “How are you?”

“ _Long week. I graduated from Auror Academy yesterday._ ”

Regina raises an eyebrow, “Congratulations on whatever that means.”

“ _I’m basically a police officer, but higher class. Because of stuff I did before the Academy, I graduated as a captain. My ceremonial robes are kind of weird. They’ve got gold-plated shoulder pads._ ”

“High-end police officer,” Regina muses. “An _Auror_.”

“ _Yeah. Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?_ ”

“Depending on the question, I might not answer.”

“ _Right, well – I have our family tree and I noticed something odd? I mean, like, Neal’s son having a different last name._ ”

“I have no idea who Neal is,” Regina shakes her head, frowning as Henry loses his grip on his bottle, dropping it. Carefully keeping the phone at her ear on her shoulder, she lowers her hands to adjust him and hold the bottle briefly before he gets a hold of it again.

“ _Neal Cassidy? He’s got a different mother, called Milah – she’s dead, apparently – and his dad’s Rumplestiltskin._ ”

Regina loses her grip on the phone, barely catching it as it slides down her shirt. Once she has a hold on it, she can hear Harry talking, but his words aren’t clear.

“Harry,” she interrupts, “I dropped the phone, could you repeat that?”

“ _Oh, sorry. So Neal Cassidy and Emma Swan have a son, but his last name is Mills? My friends pointed it out to me last week after you hung up._ ”

“Emma Swan?” Regina frowns because she knows that name… “What’s the boy’s name?”

“ _Henry._ ”

Regina shakes her head. “No, that can’t be right. It must be a coincidence.”

“ _Do you have a son called Henry Daniel?_ ”

“Yes,” Regina admits after a moments pause, shaken by the fact that her brother _knows Henry’s middle name_. “I suppose, if you’re really related to me, he’s your nephew.”

“ _I’m actually an uncle,_ ” Harry’s voice is quiet and they sit comfortably in the silence that follows, before Harry speaks again. “ _I have a godson called Teddy. Edward Remus Lupin. He’s really, **really** special. His mother could change her shape. He’s four._ ”

“If we ever meet in person, you could bring him along.”

Harry laughs. “ _If I brought him, I’d have to bring his grandmother too and my best friends!_ ”

“You’re that close?” Regina questions.

“ _We’ve been through so much shit together-”_

“Language!” Regina immediately bites.

“ _Sorry. Ron and Hermione…I’ve known them since I was eleven. Ten years, wow…eleven years on September first. It’s been a wicked ride with them both._ ”

“What kinds of things did you do?” Regina wonders, never having had such kinds of friendship. Mother had never allowed it.

“ _Well, in our first year we took down a mountain- mountain lion that, uh, got into our school._ ”

“How the hell did you do that?” she gasps, sitting up a little.

“ _Knocked it out. That’s probably one of the worst things we got up to together, at that age. A couple of times a year disasters happened. Usually, I was at the centre of them, through no fault of my own._ ”

Regina feels an ache in her temples. “I bet you would give me a heart-attack, telling me all your adventures. At least wait until I’ve a whiskey in hand.”

Harry laughs again. “ _What about you? Any epic friendships to last a lifetime?_ ”

“No, unfortunately,” Regina shrugs, “Once, maybe, but I betrayed them all in ways that I can’t quite make up right now. I always said that Mal was my only true friend though.”

“ _Mal? Like Lily’s mum, Mal Smith?_ ”

“Mal has a daughter?” Regina blinks, flummoxed, Henry wriggling about, bottle finished. “I had no idea.”

“ _…just a second, I need to ask Hermione something._ ” There’s a knocking noise of the phone being set down and Regina puts her own phone on speaker, placing it on the side table. Using the fact that she has more hands, Regina completely revamps her position with Henry, sitting him up and turning on the television, playing a baby trucks cartoon Henry sings along to the theme song of.

“ _Regina, I’m back. You still there?_ ”

“You’re on speaker,” Regina says, eyes sharp as she sees how Henry gets distracted by the voice. He babbles, Regina bringing him closer. “Say hello to Uncle Harry, Henry.”

Henry babbles a little more, before Harry replies. “ _Hey Henry, it’s nice to meet you!_ ” Henry claps at the sound of his name.


	3. chess pieces iii

The weekly calls become every few weeks, at Harry’s convenience after it’s revealed how much work he has to do as a Captain in the Auror Corps. Regina, not minding, just tells him to call at a different time or leave her a voice-message if he won’t be calling that week. Sometimes, it’s Hermione or Hermione’s parents that leave her a message – Regina being given the excuse that his superiors don’t allow him a personal phone number, landline or otherwise.

“ _It must be difficult, giving the rise in technology. You seem to have so many friends, as well._ ”

Harry shrugs, knowing Regina can’t see it. “I make do.” Meaning, floo-calls, patronus message and the new speaker-mirrors were his usual forms of communication.

“ _It must cost the Granger’s a fortune, with all these international calls you make,_ ” she jokes.

“I have a small fortune my adoptive parents left me,” Harry explains. “My salary’s also a mite high. That’s being a war hero for you.”

“… _a war hero?_ ”

Harry pauses, before swearing in his head. “Unfortunately. Child soldier, as well, if we’re getting these kind of things out there.”

“ _Oh my god, Harry, this…I thought you had a happy life!_ ” Harry winces at her tone, listening to her as she works herself into a rant. “ _What about your friends? Were they child soldiers too? Was that mountain lion in your first year let in on purpose? What other kid of shit did you get up to?_ ”

“My friends weren’t like me, I don’t think…and while the mountain lion _was_ let in on purpose-”

“ _Holy gods of old-_ ”

“-it wasn’t that hard to take down! Ron even managed to get his levitation charm perfected!” Harry exclaims, before quickly realising what he’d said, knowing that he had no concrete evidence that Regina had-

“ _Magic?_ ”

“…what about magic?” Harry tries to change the direction of her words. “Can you do card-tricks?”

“ _Harry._ ” Regina’s voice is dead flat and Harry goes silent. “ _As your older sister, I am telling you right now, that you need to physically come and find me and explain in person what you mean by that. This is the Land Without Magic._ ”

“Land Without Magic? That’s ridiculous, magic is in the dirt, ambient or something like that.” Harry shakes his head. “Hermione told me. Magic on this planet is dependant on the ley-lines, emanating magic and that kind of stuff, crossing and crossing over and over again. Wizards like me have magic tied to our souls.”

“ _…that’s not how magic works in the Enchanted Forest._ ”

“The Enchanted what now?”

“ _Where I’m from, where- where my townspeople are from, not that they know that. You were probably born in Wonderland._ ”

“Wonderland? Like, Alice and the Queen of Hearts, Wonderland?”

“ _Exactly. Mother is the Queen of Hearts, if you must know._ ”

Harry blinks. “Right, yeah…” Harry thinks that over, before unfolding the family tree that is ever-present in his jacket. He looks at the _Queen Regina Mills_. “Who are you, then?”

There is a long pause.

“ _The Evil Queen._ ”

“Like, Snow White?”

“ _Don’t believe Disney, please. There’s a lot more to the story than Snow’s vanity._ ”

“Okay…” Harry looks around. “So, Rumplestiltskin is the _real_ Rumplestiltskin? And Mal…Maleficent?” He remembers Hermione’s gushing about Lily and her conception between two women. _At least one of them had to be magical._ “Peter Pan is our granddad, Merlin, that’s so cool.”

“ _How is Peter Pan our grandfather?_ ”

“He’s dads dad,” Harry elaborates.

“ _No, that doesn’t make sense – our grandfather was King Xavier._ ”

Harry looks at the family tree, puzzled. “He’s not anywhere on this tree.”

“ _What spell did you use to make it? I’m sure I can give you a better one, if it’s mucking up that badly._ ”

“No,” Harry shakes his head, “I used my blood. Malfoy- Draco Malfoy’s mum, Narcissa, she made the parchment. There’s runes around the edges. She’s a Mistress of Runes. I think she would be devastated if her work was anything less than perfect, not to mention Draco.”

“ _Harry, describe your family tree, starting with your parents and then your full blood relatives, then so on and so forth. Don’t miss out any names._ ”

“Okay, uh…” Harry sits back on the sofa, trailing a finger over the tree. “Harry James Potter, formerly Maximus. Son of Cora and Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin being the son of Peter Pan and a woman who’s just called _Black_. You, Regina, are my only full-blooded sibling, from Cora and Rumplestiltskin. Then we have a half-sister on mother’s side, Zelena, to a deceased man by the name of Jonathan. We also have a half-brother, through Rumplestiltskin, by the name of Neal Cassidy, his mother being a deceased woman called Milah. He and Emma Swan have a son, who you have apparently adopted, named Henry Mills…and you yourself have a daughter by the name of Lily, with Maleficent.”

There’s a long silence.

Harry shuts his eyes, wincing. “Regina?”

Regina hangs up.

* * *

Harry leaves her a voicemail later that week – he is to go undercover for six months. He’s sending her a photocopy of their family tree. She receives it three days later when a tired, hungry owl flutters down onto her open windowsill.

Regina doesn’t know what to do with herself. _Rumple knows. He has to know_. But does he? If Rumplestiltskin had known that Harry existed- that Regina was actually his daughter, even, because Regina knows of the deal her mother supposedly weaselled out of…what would he do? Would he treasure her? Them? Would he rage, would he be upset?

_Does he already know?_

Henry is another matter. Knowing that she has a right to him in a different way that isn’t paper and signatures – that he is her _nephew_ , digging and discovering that her nephew is the son of a woman that her brother so callously abandoned to rot – Regina weeps.

“You’re mine, you’re my blood,” she says, kneeling beside his cot and gripping the bars, smiling with teary eyes. She writes letters to Harry that she will never send, filling diaries full of her most happy thoughts and desperate dreams. When he calls her on Teddy’s birthday, a few weeks after he was supposed to be brought back out from undercover, he tells her to keep an eye on the skies.

Henry gapes and gasps at the owls that zoom down to drop packages to them through the open window. It goes on for over a week, Harry sending his owls with letters and gifts – wizarding robes, magical sweets, pictures that move in their frames and specifically for Regina, ingredients that she had never thought would survive in this world, let alone within Storybrooke.

“Mommy, yous a witch!” Henry exclaims when he catches her making potions for the first time in years on their kitchen benchtop, revelling in the feeling of pure _magic_ shimmering in the air. “Cat! Yous need a cat!”

Henry even tells this to Harry over the phone, his uncle laughing and promising to send them a picture of a selection of half-kneazle kittens for sale. Regina at first disapproves, before the picture comes and she falls in love with them all.

On Henry’s third birthday, a tall, red-headed man with burn scars up and down his arms holds up a crate with a grin and says, “Special delivery from Harry Potter himself!”

For some reason, Charlie is in no way offended by how Henry names the single most orange of all the half-kneazle kits Charlie as well. Regina blindly puts it down to Weasley insanity – hearing Harry tell story after story about each of the headstrong gingers seems to have given her a second-hand knack in recognising them.

* * *

“Teddy’s not going to Hogwarts for a few years yet,” Harry approaches the subject sideways. Andromeda looks at him as if he’s dumb and he decides to dive straight into the meat of the matter. “I want to take him to America, to meet Gina and Henry and track down Lily.”

“You’re taking me with you,” the Black-Tonks woman says, tone implying any other reaction than agreeing would permit her to curse him.

“Of course, no doubt about it,” Harry sips his tea, before Luna floats in through the back door, late winter snowdrops tucked behind her ear. “Hey, Lune. Didn’t know you were here.”

Luna comes over, hands gently drifting over his shoulders, brushing his neck in a decidedly Luna fashion. “Take me with you? I want to see the pixie dust caverns.”

Harry wonders why all the women in his life are just one step from killing him, should he disagree with them.

* * *

As a well-known public figure, it still baffles Harry that the Clark Kent glasses disguise actually _works_. Just by putting on a pair of thick rectangular frames and – in opposition to the Clark Kent / Superman cliché – taming his hair, he’s unrecognisable. He can sneak around and actually do his job.

Andromeda, Luna and Teddy exploring Magical NYC, Harry is already halfway across the country, tracking spell leading him to a snazzy little smokey joint in the wall. If not for his Auror rune schemes, drawn into the underside of his dark red Auror overcoat, Harry might have felt woozy with all the drugs in the air. Sitting at the bar grants him little respite, but the tumbler full of whiskey is something for others to focus on while he watches the button float through the clouds. People higher than kites laugh and reach out to touch it, but all miss, before it attaches itself to the unfeeling shirt of her arm.

The girl is young for the bar, the patrons around her older and frankly, hippies, but there’s a certain genuine quality to her – hair tied back high on her head, lazy but deeply appreciative smile on her face and the star on her wrist stands out, with how neon pink tattoo ink makes it glow in the dark. _Take what you’ve got and live with it_ , Harry thinks, not unkindly. The fact that she shares her name with his adoptive mother inclines him towards her more than it should, considering she’s taking drugs and hanging out with what looked to be people twenty years older than her.

Harry magically tags her, leaving the bar, but immediately being accosted by another wizard.

“What the fuck you doing, young buddy, marking no-majs?” the American pulls im into an alley and tries to physically intimidate him as well as threaten him, wand pressed to his chest. Harry keeps his expressions plain, eyes dark.

“Sir, I am an Auror of the British Auror Corps. That so-called muggle also happens to be my niece and I want to make sure I can find her again, so she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

The American scoffs, “Yeah, right, kiddo. I’m turning you in, the law is law, even family isn’t exempt. No contact with no-maj relatives allowed here, limey.”

“Dear merlin, you know to call me a limey yet…” Harry shakes his head before employing a classic disarming manoeuvre – using wandless magic to take his wand and firing a quick _stupefy_. “You’re a hypocrite. You’re the one hanging out in muggle bars.”

Carefully lying the wizard down, Harry crouches, gently obliviating his memory of the last few hours, to well before Harry arrived in case he had seen him prior to his tagging of Lily. Perhaps the man would pass it off as having such a good time he forgot. When he’s done, Harry calmly finds a nearby hotel, waking up in the morning to discover Lily’s tag within a jail-cell.

“Can I post her bail, or something?” He questions, the officers giving him sceptical looks.

“Kid, I doubt you’ve got the money for her bail – caught her with highly illegal drugs an’ all.”

Harry purses his lips together.

_Damn fucking Hallows._

“She’s my cousin and we’ve got money put away for my college tuition. I’ll pay her bail with it, no worries.”

The officers eye him.

“Well…they do look alike.”

It’s probably one of the most confounding things Harry has ever heard.

* * *

Lily eyes him suspiciously when they get into his rental car. “Who are you?”

“Your uncle.”

“So, not my cousin,” Lily curls up on the seat, using his spare fleece blanket. “Why don’t you tell the truth?”

“I’m not making up a story this time, I really am your uncle,” Harry explains, “The problem is you believing me.”

* * *

Teddy likes Lily and Teddy – with his wild metamorphmagus magic and Andromeda’s no-nonsense attitude about him using it so blatantly in front of his cousin – convinces Lily easily that magic exists. Even Luna’s abstract conversation seems to convince her – ground her, a strange and utterly foreign concept to involve Luna Lovegood in. Harry finds himself liking Lily more and more as time passes by in New York, but there’s something about her flippant, happy, _desperate_ expressions that get to him.

“This isn’t suddenly going to end,” Harry talks to her over cognac in crystal glasses, in one of the classiest apartments in the Black Family’s repertoire. “Something isn’t going to go horribly wrong.”

“Everything ends badly for me,” she tells him horror story after horror story, nightmare after nightmare. They finish their glasses of cognac. Her only moment of solace comes at a name.

Guess what name?

“ _Emma._ ”

Best friend, other half, maybe even soulmate to Lilith Page – Emma Swan has cropped up a few times now and Harry isn’t sure what to make of it. _It’s a coincidence._ But it all nags, how she connects with their family.

“Can you make me forget, Harry?” Lily questions suddenly, “Can you make me forget I was ever an adult? De-age me, let my moms raise me-”

“You’d actually _want_ that?” Harry interrupts, not understanding her motivations. “Obliviating people doesn’t erase their memories, just buries them so far down you can never find them. If I did that to you, then- I don’t know. I think you should meet your mother first, talk to her – maybe convince her to show you ‘Mal Smith’. _Before_ you make any decisions that could be rather…life-altering and not just for you.”

Lily growls and storms off out of the apartment, full of rage and bitterness, cognac magnifying those feelings a thousand-fold. Harry retrieves her from the motel the next day, eyes wide at the sight of another woman in her bed before he forcibly processes it. _My niece is gay. That’s completely fine. It’s like how Teddy becomes Thea sometimes. Completely fine._

_It’s good. It really, really is._

Andromeda takes Lily out shopping the next day and when she returns full of bags, Harry and Teddy share a look of woe, Luna smiling serenely. Lily has apparently had some strict parents in the past, but wasting money on meaningless things hasn’t been something flushed from her system, if it ever will be.

 _Now **that’s** because she’s a dragon_.

When Harry tells her so, she startlingly smiles, grin full of shiny white teeth before she raises her hand and shows her a magical party-trick Andromeda has taught her. Harry thinks it ironic that she breathes fire as a human, so ironic in fact, that he encourages her to transform into a dragon.

The _true_ irony of the situation is not lost on him when she, in fact, turns into a black, horned dragon with large wings trapped in an apartment that grows tall enough to fit her.


	4. rook or tower i

“ _Regina, this is an emergency!_ ”

“It had better be an emergency – I’m in the middle of a council meeting,” Regina glares out of the window, ignoring the muttering old fools behind her.

“ _Lily has turned into a dragon and we have no idea how to turn her back into a human._ ”

The absurdity of the situation, no matter how dire and ridiculous it is, does not stop Regina’s mouth from dropping at Lily’s name. _My daughter_ , she thinks, _my dragon girl_.

“Give me a minute,” she says, after a long, long pause, hearing a faint roar through the receiver. Regina presses her phone to her chest, turning to face the councilmen and single councilwoman. “Councillors, my apologies, but I do believe a break was long overdue anyway. If we might adjourn and then gather again in half an hour, it would be much appreciated.”

“Aye,” an older councilman grunts, getting up without fuss. Waiting until they’ve left to put the phone back to her ear, Regina tries to control her breathing. _My stupid brother, tracking down my daughter._

She takes a deep breath.

“I’m here.”

Harry sighs in relief, “ _Thank Merlin. Okay, so we’re in an expanding place right now but there’s no way Lily could lift off, let alone fly, I think._ ”

“You think?”

Harry’s snap takes her aback, “ _Regina, please, help me. It’s not just me in here. Andromeda can’t get Luna and Teddy out the front door because of how the wards are reacting to Lily’s dragon form. Did Maleficent ever tell you about her transformations?_ ”

“Enough to help Lily,” Regina sits, spare hand gripping her desk as she makes the decision. “Put me on speaker.”

“ _Alright,_ ” he says before the background roars suddenly become a lot louder. “ _Lily! Lily, look over here you big black fire-breathing beast-_ ”

“Lily, this is Regina, your mother,” Regina introduces herself, immediately noticing the lack of roars. “Like Harry, it seems our first meeting shall be through this lands telecommunication methods, with you in draconian form. I bet you’re as beautiful as your mother.” She hears a low, but loud keen and Harry’s muttered _yes, go Gina_. “Lily, as your mother isn’t there with you to help, you need to listen to me now. Please listen. Imagine being human, imagine ten fingers and ten toes – think of your hair and the way it feels around your face, how your tongue sits in your mouth so awkwardly.”

“ _Remember your tattoo that glows in the dark,_ ” Harry adds. “ _It’s a star, right?_ ”

Another loud keening noise… “ _Oh my god, I was a dragon, Uncle Harry!_ ”

Regina lets out a relieved laugh, listening to Harry tell his niece she was awesome and- “ _Your mum’s proud of you, I bet. Right, Regina?_ ” The Queen startles, once more focusing on the fact that _Lily is on the other side of the phone_.

“ _Mom?_ ” Comes her voice, full of anticipation and joy.

“Hello, Lily,” Regina says, shaking slightly. Her eyes burn with happy tears and she wipes at them delicately, not wanting to mess up her make-up. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“ _Ditto, mom._ ”

Regina looks around her office, smiling brightly as she laughs, clutching her phone and grinning.

_This curse really is my happy ending._

* * *

Driving up the road to his sisters famed _Storybrooke_ three months later, in the middle of October, Harry feels impatient. Andromeda, likewise isn’t having a good time, though Luna, Lily and Teddy are asleep in the back seats.

“How long until we get there?”

Harry shrugs, hands clutching the steering wheel. “I don’t know. She gave me heaps of complicated instructions and we’ve checked them off on the list. Charlie managed to follow them fine, last year, when he dropped the kittens off.” Andromeda opens up the piece of paper, humming darkly. “The only thing left to do is drive along the road for five miles and keep going after we see the sign for Storybrooke.”

“It’s been longer than five miles, Harry – are you sure we’ll be able to find it? This existence she lives…she described the curse as living life on repeat. What if the town itself is invisible to us?”

Harry purses his lips, not wanting to wonder whether it was true. _How did Henry get through then? And Charlie?_ Harry checks his phone briefly, but there’s no signal so he can’t phone Regina. They’ve passed a diner that Regina had pointed out miles back, over half an hour ago. _There’s something wrong._

Stopping the car, Harry gets out, ignoring Andromeda as she asks what he’s doing. Taking his trusty shrunken Firebolt from his pocket, Harry removes the charm before flying up into the air, over the trees. Once over them, Harry looks around, frowning deeply at the lack of town in sight for miles. It’s all forest.

Following the road, Harry flies-

 _Wards!_ He thinks sharply as he passes through them abruptly, dropping out of the sky. He can feel his magic leave him, sucking under his skin as if trapped. It’s like taking all his clothes off – like he’s naked. _I know I told Charlie that there might be some strange magic around the town, but why didn’t he mention this? This is important!_

Harry flails in the sky, the Firebolt dead beneath his palms, suddenly just a piece of wood. The ground approaches rapidly and it’s too late to get his wand out, so he braces himself, pain flowing through him as he hits concrete. There’s darkness, an unending blackness for a moment before he’s gasping for breath, neck and elbow aching, body slightly numb.

“You need to be more careful, Master,” Death says, “Jurisdiction in this place is debatable. Thanatos and Hades don’t like it when I meddle in their worlds.”

Harry groans, sitting up, looking to his Firebolt – which, predictably, is broken. _Dammit._ “I’m yours though.”

“I am yours,” Death corrects, adjusting their hood. “I can follow you here, but I have no power over any except for you and my Marked.”

Harry nods heavily, rubbing his face. “Right.” Being the Master of Death is a pain, if useful – though the lack of dying and aging two true curses of it that Harry _really_ does not like talking about – but at least Harry knows now that Regina’s whole _part-of-my-realm-is-cursed-here-forever_ doesn’t just apply to her people. He’d really like to know who cast the curse, but Regina was mute on the topic. He has a funny feeling about that. Considering she’s his sister though, he resolutely avoids that line of thought – and there are certainly plenty of villains in Storybrooke to choose from.

“Anything else I should know, before I go bringing my family inside these wards?”

Death tilts their head, “Leaving will be harder than entering, for you and only you, because of how you don’t belong to this realm. The same can be said for Luna Lovegood, however, that is entirely because she will not want to leave. It is a centre of alternate magic, despite the lack of it and I am aware of her…obsession, to put it lightly.”

“Great, absolutely great,” Harry finally gets up, taking out his holly wand and trying to repair the gigantic rip in his trouser-leg, but having no luck. “Fucking _great_. Land Without Magic,” Harry shakes his head, annoyed, trying again. Putting his holly wand away, he takes out the elder wand, the magic coming to him easily with it instead, as if the block isn’t there at all. He makes a grim face. “Andromeda won’t be happy.”

“Neither will Edward Lupin,” Death notes. Harry pauses, the thought of Teddy being unable to morph horrifying him.

“Bloody Merlin, this changes things.” Harry tucks the elder wand away, gripping the two parts of his Firebolt tightly as he walks back through the wards, Death waving their hand as Harry feels the wards try to pull him back in. It’s almost unbearable, but as soon as Death removes the compulsion to return, Harry can breathe better. Seeing his car only a hundred yards away, Harry wonders if the wards were actively working to stop them from coming closer – they would have had to, anyway, Harry thinks, but Regina had told him about the last time strangers had come to Storybrooke.

 _Maybe it’s our magic,_ he thinks as he approaches the car, Andromeda’s eyes widening at the snapped Firebolt. He sees Lily in the back seat behind her and worries, briefly. _What about her? Will she be able to turn into a dragon?_ He thinks of the potions Regina’s made with ingredients from the outside – things with internal magic that had released inside her town, once brewed correctly. _But that’s not like transfigurative magic, it’s both internal and external._

“Harry, what happened?”

“The wards around the town,” Harry says, getting into the car again before explaining the circumstances, keeping a close eye on the witch as he mentions the magic block. As expected, Andromeda is particularly horrified by the thought, despite having lived a semi-muggle lifestyle for over twenty years. “You don’t have to come.”

“I…what about Teddy? I should take him back,” Andromeda shakes her head. “I don’t want you taking him in there, Harry. The only time Dora ever couldn’t morph, she- it was bad. She said it was like a part of her had been ripped out.”

“Why don’t we ask him?” Harry questions, desperately wanting to take his godson to meet Regina. Teddy wanted to meet her, too – he was so excited today. “Please, Andy.”

Andromeda purses her lips, glancing back at the three sleeping magicals in the back seat. “We’ll ask them all. It’s not fair to them, otherwise.”

Waking them and explaining the situation, there’s a surprising lack of objection to losing their grasp on magic. Luna just smiles wider – reminding Harry that his friend still, to this day, called _loony Luna_ by some of her closest friends, even if not maliciously – and Lily shrugs.

“It’s not like I can really do magic properly, yet and I need my dragon mother if I want to turn again. It’s not really safe, remember.”

Harry pays far more attention to Teddy after their answers. Teddy loses some of his enthusiasm, a bad sign, but he still wants to go through the barrier.

“I want to meet Aunty Gina,” he says with all the courage of a six year old. Harry glances at Andromeda. “Please, Grandma, Uncle Harry, I know it’ll be hard but-”

“It won’t just be hard,” Andromeda interrupts, voice steady but cracking at the end, worry for her grandson audible. “You won’t be able to morph. You won’t be able to do anything. You’ll be back to base form-”

“I might not be,” Teddy argues before breathing deep and shutting his eyes. Harry watches his nephew lose his morph deliberately. His angry red hair becomes a soft blonde, straight and short, the Weasley freckles he usually sports disappearing, eyelids changing to match Andromeda’s, heavy-lidded and light. His eyelashes and eyebrows copy his head, almost invisible with how pale Remus’ blonde is. His chest rises up and down slowly, before he opens his eyes. “Drive.”

“Weird,” Harry mutters, raising an eyebrow. “That how you’re going to answer your nana’s question?”

“Just drive,” Teddy orders and Harry puts his hands up, twisting back and buckling in, turning the car back on and driving. As they pass through the wards, Andromeda lets out a loud moan of loss, Luna yelping. Lily sucks in a gigantic breath, hands scrabbling at her chest and Harry himself tries not to completely panic as he continues to drive, slowing to a stop as he notices a sign he hadn’t before.

_Welcome to Storybrooke_

Harry smiles tiredly, looking back to Teddy. His godson is slumped, leaning back against the seat, but there’s something very wrong with his appearance. Harry immediately calls for Death as Teddy looks up, yellow amber swirling brightly with dark emerald green. Teddy gives a tired, if confused grin, dimples – that he shouldn’t have – appearing on his skin, dark brown freckles smattered all over his cheeks, nose, chin and forehead. A short, curly mess of black hair sits on his head, streaked liberally with turquoise near his forehead, sticking up every which way and when, like Angelina’s.

“This is strange,” Death says, sitting invisible in the space between Harry and Andromeda, smaller than a normal human but still as terrifying. “Your godchild is an enigma. Their magic changes with their sense of self, apparently. The wards reduced them to their most natural form. I did not realise this would be so. I will have to investigate this curse better.” Death disappears, sensing Harry’s acceptance of their answer across their bond.

“Teddy, what-” Andromeda starts, before ordering him to change. Teddy shakes his head, gently feeling his face, running his fingers through his hair.

“Can’t.” He looks to Lily, who’s still digging into her chest, leaning over and wrapping his arms around her. She leans into the embrace, fingers locking around his arm tightly. “Uncle Harry, can you drive, please?”

“Course, kiddo.” Harry is quick to drive down the road, glancing at Luna in the rearview mirror. Other than looking far more startled than he thought Luna could look, she seems fine. He looks at Lily, still holding onto Teddy’s arm. _Maybe Regina can help._ He hadn’t expected her to react so badly, more worried about Teddy.

They drive into town and Andromeda gives him quiet directions, using the checklist. Soon, they find themselves on Mifflin Street and to Harry’s surprise, he realises which house it is before Andromeda can tell him, spying one of his gifts hung on a black garden stick with a curved tip. Parking on the road rather than in the drive-way, where an American police cruiser rests, Harry spares one last glance to the fairy house, small flittering creatures poking their heads out of the windows to watch them, before helping his family out of the car.

Lily’s shivering, now. Teddy looks at Harry with a worried face.

“She’s really cold.”

“We’ll get her warmed up inside,” Harry assures him, before they go up the path to the door, knocking politely. After waiting a few seconds, it opens, a man smiling politely at them.

“Hello, who are you?”

Harry gives a polite smile. _This must be the owner of the car._

“Potter, Harry Potter. Is this Regina Mills’ house?”

“Yes, just a second, I’ll get her for you.” The man turns back inside, calling out for her before twisting to watch them again. Silent, they watch each other until Harry hears heels clacking and looks behind him. A woman walks up, the man looks positively scruffy in comparison. Dark hair curled to perfection, a black dress highlighting every positive aspect of her figure, she looks at them with curious eyes, red-painted lips tilting upwards as she catches sight of something – Teddy, Harry realising after following her line of sight, guessing that she’d noticed his hair.

He looks back at her, finding her gaze settling on him. He tentatively smiles.

“Hey.”

“Harry,” Regina smiles widely, hand coming to the mans shoulder. “Graham, sorry, we’ll have to call it a night.”

Graham glances between them, eyebrows knitting together. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He ducks inside, sparing Harry one last glance before Regina sticks out her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Harry encloses his hand around hers tightly, shaking gently. “You too, Regina.” He glances at his family, before motioning with his free hand. “Meet Teddy, his grandmother Andromeda, my close friend Luna and…” he smiles at her. “Lily.”

“Lily,” Regina stares at her, breathing out her name. Graham slips out of the house, wearing a jacket and she ignores him as he says goodbye. Lily looks up at her mother, speechless. Harry lets them have some time to stare at each other, but at some point the silence starts to wear on them, some tension rising before he clears his throat.

“Uh, coming across the town line, something happened because of your warding. Lily doesn’t feel too well.”

Regina snaps to action. “Come inside. God, how long have you been driving.” She reaches out, taking Lily’s hand, dropping Harry’s as she leads them inside. Harry, knowing she lived in a mansion, is still a little flummoxed by the obvious display of wealth, eyes trailing over the circular staircase and designer wallpaper. Regina invites them into her living room, settling Lily down by the fireplace on a pouf.

“Have you booked into Granny’s bed and breakfast?” She questions.

“No, drove right here,” Harry sits on the sofa, leaning back comfortably. He watches Regina like a hawk, taking in everything she does, mesmerised.

“I have four guest bedrooms. If two of you wouldn’t mind sharing, I could set you up.”

“That would be lovely, thank-you,” Andromeda nods, looking at Harry. “You can share with Teddy.”

“Alright,” Harry nods at her, glancing at said child. He grins, thumbs up. “Regina? Is that good?”

“If you don’t mind a double bed.”

“Cool!” Teddy bounces a little, earlier nap invigorating him. “Aunty Gina, where’s Henry?”

“He’s just gone to bed,” Regina says apologetically, smiling at him. “I’ll introduce you in the morning. How old are you?”

“Six!”

“Henry is three,” Regina replies before looking to Lily. “Would you like a drink, dear?”

Lily gives a small smile and nods.


	5. rook or tower ii

Luna and Lily both find their own place in Storybrooke together, approaching a Mr Gold whom Regina later reveals is their cursed father, Rumplestiltskin. Harry, far warier of his father, cursed or not, stays far away from him and subsequently can’t stop Luna from making said decision to approach him to get an apartment. They eventually end up moving in with a woman by the name of Mary-Margaret Blanchard, which causes Regina to have her first argument with Lily.

Mary-Margaret Blanchard is Snow White and destroyed Regina’s life, as it turns out. Harry is still very against Luna moving to Storybrooke.

“No need to worry about me, Harry,” Luna says when they’re walking around the duck-pond one day, getting odd looks from the locals for not wearing jackets. “I’m going to write articles on living without magic for the Quibbler. Daddy and I think it’s a good idea that I get my own place, too – he can use my room for the new printer, too, now that sales have boosted.”

“Alright,” Harry gives in quietly. “Why move in with Lily, though?”

“She’s alone and scared. Despite only recently appearing in her life, I’m a constant.” Luna takes his hand, squeezing lightly. “I’ll keep your niece grounded, Harry, don’t worry.”

Harry chuckles, before joking, “Just don’t go becoming my niece too. My family tree’s already weird enough as it is.”

Luna laughs, leaning forwards to press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t promise anything like that, Harry.”

Harry stares at her, flabbergasted. “What does that mean?” Luna smiles, letting go of his hand to feed the ducks further down the pond. “Luna? Luna, what does that mean?”

* * *

Andromeda leaves after they enrol Teddy in school. Harry doesn’t blame her. Teddy is sad to see her go but frankly, he’s six – he doesn’t miss her until the next weekend, when he realises he won’t just be going over to her house like usual. Travel between the magical US and magical Britain is tedious enough, with so many forms to be filled in and wavers to be signed to step on American magical soil and they can’t just do it the muggle way, not without passports – something that would never be able to be done for Teddy due to his ever-changing appearance.

Regina is sympathetic. Overly sympathetic, actually. Late one night, Harry and Regina talk about their childhoods – Harry’s with the Dursley’s and Regina’s with Cora and her father, the late Henry senior. During their talk, Harry understands why she might be so sympathetic, as she describes being disallowed from seeing her other family, from her grandmother’s line rather than King Xavier’s.

 _It was good Cora gave me up_ , Harry thinks after their talk is done and his head is spinning from apple cider. _She would have ruined me worse than the Dursley’s did._

He can’t imagine how Regina survived it all.

Then, of course, he learns about King Leopold. He nearly kills Snow White himself, just because her father isn’t there anymore.

“I’m not going to be friendly with her,” he says crossly after Lily complains about a mean comment he made about her. “When you and your mother start getting deeper into each other’s history, you’ll be feeling the same way.”

* * *

However, it turns out, _no_ , she doesn’t feel the same way, because Regina was brutally honest about it with Harry and only told Lily the bare minimum about her marriage to him.

“Honesty is key,” Harry says wisely. Regina rolls her eyes, focusing on making her apple pie base. “She won’t forgive you if you lie.”

“And what would you know about that?” Regina replies smartly. “You’re atrocious at lying, unlike me.”

“You’re proving my point,” Harry points out. “Lily seriously won’t forgive you. That girl can hold a grudge. We haven’t talked all week and Blanchard’s been giving me scared looks whenever I see her at Granny’s Diner. I think they’re sharing secrets.”

Regina winces. Under no circumstances had she ever thought her daughter would be on good terms with Snow White. _Sharing secrets, god._

“I don’t want to tell her those kinds of things,” Regina explains honestly. “You don’t judge me.” _You’re on my side._

Harry sighs deeply, rubbing his forehead, the massive lightning-like scar on it one of his few unique traits. “You’re my sister and I love you, but she’s my niece, _your_ daughter. You shouldn’t hold back because you think it might hurt her. She’s a big girl.”

Regina stays silent, glancing down to see one of her four half-kneazle cats winding through her legs. Like Himalayans cats, they each had small faces and long, soft fur that Henry liked to brush, one of the few gentle exercises he had enthusiasm for, their most ginger cat, Charlie – named after the as-equally redheaded Weasley that dropped them off – his absolute favourite. At her feet was Regina’s personal favourite, the oldest and darkest of the cats, with shorter black hair and grey feet, ears, face and tail. She’d named him Grim, which was ‘totally unimaginative’ according to Harry.

 _At least ‘Grim’ is better than Charlie, Buttercup and Bulldozer_ , Regina grimaces at the reminder of her least-favourite feline, who regularly banged into furniture with his face. Henry had thought it hilarious, naming him after his well-used bulldozer truck.

Finishing her pie base, Grim winding through her legs in a way that Regina feels is familiar – in the literal sense rather than the metaphorical, as Grim reminds her of Helga, her raven familiar from the Enchanted Forest – Regina glances at Harry before calling him over.

“You might as well help out. You’re the one who’ll be eating it later.”

* * *

“I’m not really surprised that he’s my father, after I think more about it,” Regina says, completely ignoring the movie playing out on her TV. Harry shifts slightly, pausing it with the remote, “our father,” she corrects herself after a moment. “Though, it’s confusing to think of him as my father when I had one growing up. Is it easier for you?”

“No. Maybe,” Harry shrugs a little with one shoulder, though the other still moves under her head. “I always wanted a family that loved me. My parents were abstract concepts. The fact that I have another set of parents is…odd, but they aren’t the shining golden wonders everyone fooled me into thinking they were. The Dursley’s told me my parents were drunken, penniless, unemployed layabouts. The Wizarding World told me they were heroes. Only one man really told me the truth – he told me from day one. Except even then, I mean…Snape talked about my dad as a kid. My dad grew up.”

“Don’t do anything hasty,” Regina says quietly, amusingly.

“Snape was a hero, in the end,” Harry argues.

“In the end, not when it mattered,” Regina pokes him in the stomach, still revelling in how they sit like this. _My baby brother._ She thinks for a long time, Harry playing the movie. She doesn’t watch it and in the end, pauses it soon after, sitting up and folding her legs under her. “Rumplestiltskin was the one who led me down the path of darkness and gave me the Dark Curse.”

“…I don’t like talking about you being dark,” Harry mutters.

“I know, but it’s important.” Regina places her hands in her lap, fiddling with the drawstrings of her pyjama bottoms. “The Dark Curse isn’t like your magic, Harry – it’s the darkest curse of them all, requiring the sacrifice of the thing you love the most, using their heart as an ingredient.”

Harry leans back, obviously horrified. “What does it _do?_ ”

Regina looks at her hands. _Guilt, my most hated enemy_ , she thinks bitterly. “It sweeps people up and drops them in a new realm, in a new life, dictated by the caster. It freezes time and traps them as they are. This is my legacy, my Storybrooke – my Dark Curse. The only person who remembers the Enchanted Forest is me.”

Harry stares at her and then abruptly gets up, fists clenched. “I don’t know what to think about this and I’m not going to make the mistake of telling you my thoughts right now. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you could still take Teddy to school, that’d be appreciated.” He leaves the living room and Regina remains on the sofa, feeling hollow and cold. But tiny, hopeful thoughts swim through her mind.

_He didn’t outright condemn me._

Regina breathes in.

_He just needs time._

* * *

On Thursday, two days after Regina’s big reveal – that she’s the caster of the curse on Storybrooke, that she was the one to bring her people to his world – Harry has finished thinking about it and talking it over with Hermione and Ron via speaker-mirrors, hating the awkwardness around Regina’s _own house_ because of how he’s processing.

“While they don’t remember their real lives, you brought them a different kind of happiness,” Harry starts when he approaches her in her mayoral office, using the elder wand to lock the door and stop spies from hearing with a handy _muffliato._ “The modern world with electricity and shit like that.” Harry pauses and knows he really has his sisters attention when she doesn’t immediately call him out for his language. “I bet, if the curse is ever broken and they really think about what you’ve done, they’ll be twisted out of their minds trying not to thank you.”

“Really?” Regina says in a bitter mutter to herself, but Harry hears it.

“Yes, really. I’m thankful that mother sent me away for a lot of different reasons, but sending me to this world is still one of them. You’ve told me what the Enchanted Forest is like – they live in shacks and hovels and even your castle doesn’t have plumbing.” Harry breathes out, coming closer, around the desk. Regina stands and welcomes the hug he gives, hand running through his hair. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Ask away,” she mumbles into his shirt, a new one that Regina had bought him, replacing his wardrobe after seeing his drabs and dregs from Dudley. It’s dark blue and a button-up, tucked into grey slacks with a brown belt, matching brown leather shoes on his feet – he’s a ‘fashion icon’ according to Teddy, who gets to wear normal t-shirts when he isn’t in his school uniform.

“Was it your dad who you sacrificed?”

“Of course it was. He was the only one I loved, before, the only one except Daniel.”

“Before?”

Regina clutches his shirt in their hug and he can feel a wet patch on his shoulder as she leans her head further down. “Henry. You. I love you both so much and Teddy too. Lily, oh Lily, _my_ girl. _My_ daughter. The curse worked – I’ve got my happy ending in all of you.”

“I’m happy you’re happy,” Harry says, squeezing tighter in their hug for a few seconds before releasing her. He sees her makeup has smudged and wrinkles his nose, Regina grimacing as she carefully wipes at running mascara and smudged black eyeshadow. Harry fiddles with the elder wand, raising it in offer. “I think I can fix your face?

“I didn’t think your people were so vain they created make-up spells,” Regina jokes in a slightly croaky voice, standing still as he aims, not replying.

Harry, of course, doesn’t know anything about make-up spells or hair-care stuff that Lavender and Parvati used to go on about.

Harry, however, _does_ know a repairing charm.

“ _Reparo_ ,” he intones, thinking specifically about how he wants to fix her make-up. A second later, her make-up clears, smudge reversing and blackish water disappearing. Regina blinks a couple of times, perhaps feeling the change. “That worked.”

Regina immediately shoots him a horrified look, “You didn’t _know?_ ”

“It’s a repairing charm!” Harry puts the elder wand in its holster after removing the privacy and locking charms, raising his hands as he backs away a bit. “Intent is as important as the words themselves! I repaired your shoddy make-up!” Regina glares at him and he rolls his eyes, reaching over to kiss her cheek goodbye as he’d started to do in recent months. “I’m cooking dinner tonight.”

“Fine. Pick Henry up from daycare.”

“Fine.”

* * *

Harry thinks he’s rather good at this siblings thing.

When he tells Ron and Ginny about the incident, they agree with him – however, Ginny is quick to requisition him for over half an hour, making him note down and practice different hair-care and make-up spells on himself and Teddy, too, when the boy gets himself involved. Teddy doesn’t really want to help and Harry doesn’t really want to do it in the first place. Neither, however, want to face the wrath of Ginny Weasley. Both boys, despite the difference in age and level of experience with her, are quite well aware how dangerous she can be and don’t ever want to piss her off.

 _I really do surround myself with insanely dangerous women,_ Harry after thinks, shaking his head.

“Finished with that tea, Brit-boy?” the waitress asks him. Harry glances up, coughing slightly as he usually does when faced with her rather skin-revealing shirt every time he comes to Granny’s Diner.

“Uh, no. It’s not cold yet.”

“I really doubt that,” she replies, before striking up conversation. “What are you thinking about?”

“My family and friends. All the women in my life are amazing and like, actually, really dangerous in their own rights. I never want to make any of them angry.”

The waitress laughs. “Good idea. Hey though, I’ve seen you around all this time and I don’t know your name,” she winks at him and Harry flushes.

“Ah, my name’s Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Ruby, Ruby Lucas,” she introduces herself, before _the_ Granny of Granny’s Diner calls for her, sharpish. “Got to go.”

* * *

“…you’re kidding me,” Harry gapes at her. “Really?”

“Really,” Regina confirms, watching him in amusement. “Many call her Red.”

“Like Little Red Riding Hood?” Teddy pipes up. “Harry told me that story before we came here. Can she turn outside of full moon?”

“Werewolves don’t-” Harry starts, before Regina interrupts.

“Yes. She’s not like the kind of werewolf your father was – she’s a child of the moon. It’s hereditary and there aren’t many wolves left. I always wanted her to be one of mine, but she was too loyal to Snow White.”

Teddy pesters her with questions about her nemesis and the ‘fairytale people’ she employed, though Regina has to snap at Harry for his language as he swears about ‘dangerous women’ and his life.


	6. rook or tower iii

“Mom, so…so I’m just going to come out and say it,” Lily finally speaks after ten minutes of silence sitting under Regina’s apple tree. The twenty-three year old takes in a deep breath. “In the Wizarding World, they have permanent de-aging potions and their own memory charm.”

Regina processes this, using the awkward silence Lily takes after speaking, playing with her egg-shard necklace. The reason why Lily might tell her quickly comes to her and Regina puts a hand to her mouth.

“You- you want-”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking it over for years, ever since Harry brought me here and while I’ve been happy I just want to have had a life with you and Maleficent-” Lily starts, before Regina wraps her arms around her. “Mom?”

“It’s a big decision and you might just feel the same way as you did before, but if you want to do it, I won’t stop you.”

“O-okay, okay, thank-you,” Lily sniffles, Regina leaning away from the hug so she can press her lips to her forehead. “I know my other mom can’t be here because she…she’s a wild dragon hidden in the mines right now.”

“Which is my fault.”

“Yeah, sort of, so, can I ask you to do something, though, before I go through with it?”

“Anything.”

“It’s awkward, for you,” Lily says, a smile threatening to take over her face. “It’s so nothing happens, if the curse breaks and shit happens.”

“Language,” Regina says in a warning voice, “What do you want me to do?”

* * *

“This is so embarrassing.”

Harry snorts, “You’re the one who decided to go along with her plan.”

“I could have pretended to adopt again,” Regina whines, trying and failing to zip her coat over her fake baby bump. “Why didn’t I pretend to adopt again?”

“Lily blackmailed you.”

“I _know_ , it’s the _principle_ of the thing, _brother_.”

* * *

“Mayor Mills,” Harry says in a fake American accent, cradling the baby Lily. “As your fake midwife, may I formally present your daughter, Lillian Andromeda Mills.”

Regina takes Lily from him gently, Henry squealing, clapping his hands as he jumps up and down. Regina though, for the second time in her life, only has eyes for her child. Lily is a small, delicate baby with thin arms and wrists, dark eyes so brown like her own, with a crop of dark hair on her head. Smile wobbly, Regina goes close to her brother, giving him a firm kiss on the cheek, watching him as he reaches up, letting Lily take his finger.

“Mom, I want to see her,” Henry tugs on her shirt, Regina sitting down so he can peer at her, his own hand replacing Harry’s.

“She’s really small,” Teddy says, peering at her from afar. Regina glances up sharply, smile widening at the sight of him, Andromeda at his side.

“You’re back!”

“Just in time, it seems,” Andromeda smiles, looking at Lily. “She did say she was going through with it, but I did wonder if she would get cold feet.”

“No, no cold feet from Lily Page,” Harry shakes his head. “I think Lily _Andromeda_ Mills will grow up far happier but just as strong as her past self.”

“You-” Andromeda looks at Regina with widening eyes. “Did she decide that?”

“No. I did.” Regina says, cradling her daughter gently, letting Henry continue to play and stroke her arm. “According to Luna, who is conveniently missing again-” Regina takes a brief moment to watch Harry look around sharply and groan, using the elder wand to apparate to the mine entrance, where undoubtedly the curious young witch was trying to search for fairy-dust “-Lily used a speaker-mirror to talk to you regularly. She even told me before today that you would be one of the things she’d miss out on, when she was like this.”

“Oh, no she won’t,” Andromeda dabs her eyes with a handkerchief. “This won’t do and I miss having Teddy within arms reach. Summer and May holidays are not enough.”

“You’re moving to Storybrooke, Aunty Andy?” Henry looks over with wide eyes.

“Not Storybrooke, though near.” Andromeda shakes her head. “Unfortunately, I can’t live without magic, unlike some. I’m aware that there’s a magical enclave on an island, some hour and a half away. I’ll get a home there.”

“Good luck,” Regina nods, Harry reappearing with a dusty Luna. Regina’s smile turns into a frown. “What have I told you about-”

“Regina!” Harry hisses, before holding up a crystal shard.

Regina stares, breathing out slowly.

“Pixie dust.”

_The Curse is weakening._

Regina doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

* * *

When Lily is two and a half, she comes down with pneumonia, after a few days chest infection and the weather making a sharp change from warm-enough-to-leave-your-windows-open to wind and sleet overnight. Regina frets and worries and the Storybrooke doctors keep her in the Children’s ICU.

“You need to go home, ma’am,” a nurse says – someone who Regina thinks might have been a village midwife, making her placement in the hospital very lucky indeed for one of her profession, when you thought of Curse memories – before calling Harry to collect her. Regina doesn’t want to leave Lily there alone, Luna turning up at the perfect moment to volunteer to look out for her.

“Come on, Gina,” Harry shuffles her into her Mercedes, for once driving rather than riding shotgun. Regina wipes her face when she sees herself in her little mirror, slumping in her seat. Harry drives them back to Mifflin Street, only halfway there when he speaks again. “When Teddy was a week old, we had to leave him alone in the middle of a room during full moon, waiting to see if he’d turn. I’d just met him and Andromeda was crying all the time – I held him for a couple of hours, the day really, just playing about and all that, feeding him, napping. All that. Then Andy showed back up and bam: into the room he goes.”

Regina looks at her brother, listening closely to the story. He seems to be focusing on driving far more than his speech.

“He didn’t turn into a werewolf. He just laid there, crying his heart out for us, for over an hour before Andromeda let me back in to get him. It hurt the both of us to leave him there and we could have probably done something better, like actually get him checked out by a professional, but we couldn’t – the Battle of Hogwarts was won, but the war was truly pronounced over at Christmas, over six months later. Clean-up took another year, fully. They had to weed out the Death Eaters and true blood purists. Umbridge got life in Azkaban.”

The turn into Mifflin Street, quickly turning into the drive. Harry doesn’t leave the car though, just continuing to speak.

“St Mungos was one of the last to be filtered. The subject of ill and dying dark magicals tied up the Wizengamot for ages. By the time they finished, Teddy had already been through over two dozen full moons. The most werewolf-like thing about him was the fact that he can eat meat raw without ill effects and his physical peak is higher than that of a normal kids. He runs with actual dogs sometimes, as well. You don’t know what a relief it is to know he likes cats, because, I mean, you have four.”

The joke doesn’t lift Regina’s spirits, but she nods, thinking of Lily and wondering when Harry was going to get to the point.

Harry, seemingly knowing what she was thinking, coughs awkwardly before finishing. “I’m sorry I don’t have a more relatable story. Lily’s ill and in hospital, I know, but the thing is…she’s there. You don’t have to worry that she’ll suddenly turn into a dragon, at least, not like she might outside Storybrooke. They know what they’re doing, even if they shouldn’t and hey, that’s another reason to like the Dark Curse.”

Regina nods again, thinking on it. “I don’t have to worry like you did, with Teddy.”

“No, you don’t,” Harry says, before getting out of the car. “Come on, Gina. I think you deserve a well-earned glass of the most expensive alcoholic confection in your wine rack.”

“What I need is sleep,” Regina gets out of the car, Harry locking it and hanging the keys up on their peg, linking arms with her as they go inside. “And you can’t afford the most expensive wine in my possession.”

“I highly doubt that, considering how rich I am, independent of your coffers, but okay.”

* * *

Regina has many regrets in life and many, many chances for revenge. Times like these, when she’s living the perfect life, raising two amazing children with a family surrounding her and supporting her, her attitude cause those regrets and those chances for revenge coincide. In the locked ward of the Storybrooke Hospital, Regina visits Belle, sitting on a chair in front of her biological father’s true love and wonders how the hell she can fix this.

“He’ll never forgive me,” Regina crosses her legs as she looks at Belle, who curls up on her bed in the corner, terrified and confused. “If the Saviour shows up and breaks the curse, he’ll have my life for what’s been done to you. Seeing as, perhaps in another life, you might be my stepmother – and maybe, perhaps will be, if Rumple gets his act together – I’m going to try fixing this. Perhaps you’ll remember this one-sided conversation. I’m going to change Storybrooke for you, or rather, me, but for you and Gold. Pixie dust is in the mines and it is _full_ of magic I can use. So,” Regina stands, coming closer to Belle and delicately patting her arm, leaning down close to her face to make sure she can hear, “as Mayor, I welcome you to Storybrooke, _Mrs Gold._ ”

* * *

Harry can feel the difference and it wakes him up – Teddy too, if the loud yelp is anything. Magic sweeps across the town, the wards, for a moment, disappearing. Harry summons the elder wand, focussing on Regina as he apparates, appearing in a stone room. Regina is at a desk, but surrounding her there are boxes and objects – but the boxes catch Harry’s interest, because they _thump_ like heartbeats, the noise loud to his ears.

“Where is this?”

“My vault,” Regina answers, putting a hand to her heart in a startled motion. “What happened?”

“What happened? I’m here to ask _you_ what happened,” Harry says. “Your Curse let our magic in for a split-second. What’s going on?”

Regina clenches her jaw. “Correcting something. Something important.”

“What’s so important that you changed the Curse?” Harry questions, impatient. He goes to tuck the elder wand in its holster, but it isn’t there because he’s in his pyjamas, or what he classes as pyjamas – black round-neck and jogging bottoms his idea of sleepwear.

Regina, in her outfit from today, crosses her arms. “I made a mistake. In the Enchanted Forest, I captured a woman whom I knew the Dark One had a particular interest in – a romantic interest.”

Harry blinks. _Wait, what?_ “Father had wife?”

“Close enough. They were in love. Are, in love,” Regina corrects herself. “I changed the Curse so that they’re together, rather than apart. Belle is now Belle Gold nee French. Her father is Moe French, the proprietor of Game of Thorns, formerly Sir Maurice. Her Storybrooke counterpart supposedly eloped with father to get away from Moe and then actually grew to love him and he, her.”

“Wow,” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “So, everyone remembers that, then?”

“Yes. We’ll have to talk to Henry, in case he notices. I think it might be time we explained our family tree to him, as well,” Regina brushes her hands on her jacket. “He’s turning eight. He has a right to know his family.”

“He’s going to be confused,” Harry mutters. “What about Miss Swan?” It’s still her name – he renews the tree every so often, making sure no-one new shows up without their knowledge. Emma Swan, despite no blood relation, still remains Emma Swan on the tree. He’d sent a letter to Narcissa, via Andromeda rather than Draco, questioning her about it and paying for a dozen new sheets of square runic parchment.

“I won’t begrudge him wanting to track her down,” Regina says, after a long moment. “But it was a closed adoption. If he wants to find her, you can both go on a road-trip and spy on her from a different diner booth, or whatever. Stalk her for a few days. Nothing more. No contact, whatsoever.”

“That’s fine with me,” Harry shrugs, pressing his lips together.

He knows his nephew.

_As if spying would be enough._

* * *

Henry takes the news well when they discuss it with him the next week onwards, having decided to split the conversation into two parts – the first being the new Mrs Gold and the second the whole _Rumplestiltskin is your grandfather_ , thing. Harry dipsout at one point in the second chat to answer a speaker-mirror call from Teddy.

“ _Uncle Harry,_ ” Teddy spins around, Diagon Alley a blur behind him. “ _I got my wand! Guess what it is!_ ”

“Unicorn hair and…ash!” Harry leans against the wall, keeping half an ear on Regina and Henry’s conversation.

“ _Nope!_ ”

“Holly and phoenix feather?” He jests, getting a laugh out of Teddy before he shakes his head. Lily comes toddling out of the living room, plush toy in hand as Harry makes a third guess. “Dogwood and dragon heart-string?”

“… _uh, definitely not, Uncle Harry. I’m really uncomfortable with that idea._ ”

It – to Harry’s horror – takes too long for him to realise why and he has a clean example right in front of him, biting on the ear of a Winnie the Pooh toy.

“Oh Merlin, yeah, obviously,” Harry says after an awkward silence, picking Lily up as she grumbles, tugging his jeans. “What wand did you get?”

“ _Unicorn hair and beech. Ollivander said beech chooses wise young people and that hopefully, considering how I’m a metamorphmagus, will be really good at helping me get advanced transfiguration down when I’m older. Hey, do you think I could become an animagus like the Marauders?_ ”

“I’ll give you the Marauders Official Guide when you’re in third year, might as well make a tradition,” Harry shrugs, ignoring how he didn’t learn how to become an animagus until he was nineteen and hasn’t turned into Spark something like three years.

“ _Awesome!_ ”

Teddy goes on about his day and makes Harry promise to see him off onto the Hogwarts Express before the mirror goes blank. Tucking it into his pocket, Harry finally returns to Regina and Henry, who’re studying the family tree.

“-what about Zelena? Is she here?”

“I don’t know,” Regina says, “I’ve never met her.”

“To be fair, unless we look,” Harry says, “we don’t find our siblings in this family. I’ll put out a tracker tonight, see if she’s here.”

* * *

As it happens, Zelena isn’t in the Land Without Magic. Go figure. However, Neal Cassidy is.

Following the magical homing beacon – sending a patronus message to Regina, Prongs not so easily dispelled by her wards when the elder wand is involved – Harry finds himself in New York and holes up in the Black NYC apartment for the night. The next morning, he follows the tracker to a bar, but unfortunately, that’s when the American Aurors pounce on him for using magic in an obvious place.

Sighing in his cell, Harry leans his head back, wondering if he could nap before his interrogators arrive before the door opens, admitting the straight-faced MACUSA agents.

“Mr Potter,” the middle one begins, American accent rolling his name in a way that is an actual _crime._ “As you signed your wavers, we know you’re aware of our strict laws meant to uphold the Statue of Secrecy. You were arrested for the following charges of casting a tracking enchantment utilised through blood magic, an illegal Art in the Magical United States of America, except in Magical Texas and Magical Arkansas, in a public no-maj area. What do you plea?”

Harry, knowing they would still charge him like normal, regardless of his publicity because the US Auror program is _hard_ , is quick to explain the circumstances.

“I’m seriously just looking for my brother and the magic was only visible to me, anyway – what’s the problem, if they can’t see it?”

“The segregation laws exist for a reason-”

Harry spends not one, but _six_ days arguing his case, eventually going the route of _he’s aware of magic and has to be tracked down_. As a former Auror still bound by the British Auror Code, they allow him the liberty of obliviating him, something Harry would have been required to do had Neal not been magical himself.

 _Thank fuck he is_.

All residents of the Enchanted Forest are vaguely magical themselves, not a single one mundane. The only person that Death said technically might count as mundane was a man by the name of Dr Whale – or as he’s otherwise known, _Victor Frankenstein_. That still freaks Harry out. Anyway, Neal is magical because of his Enchanted Forest heritage, with the ability to learn magic like anyone else from his realm and subsequently, the ability to wield a wand too.

However, Harry can’t explain this to MACUSA, for fear of Storybrooke being investigated and maybe even obliterated from the map. So, Neal is a ‘no-maj’ in their eyes that Harry is related to who has apparently previous, un-obliviated history with magic.

Once more tracking him down, Harry finds himself at the bar he’d been arrested at. It’s a strange fate that he would find his brother at a bar, like he’d found the old Lily, but there’s a difference this time, as Neal is a bartender.

“What can I get you?”

“Information, if that suits you, Mr Cassidy,” Harry says smoothly. Immediately, his brother tenses up.

“Who are you?”

“Your brother, via our father.”

“I don’t know what you’re on. My father doesn’t have a second kid,” Neal shakes his head. “Get a drink or get out.”

“I’ll have peanuts and a half tumbler of top-shelf whiskey,” Harry takes out his wallet, sliding across his courtesy-of-Regina debit card. Neal takes it, swiping it on the register after filling half a tumbler with said top-shelf whiskey. Once receiving his drink, card and peanut dish, Harry presses. “My mother is a woman named Cora. She was his apprentice.”

Neal actually focuses on him at the word ‘apprentice’. “He does that, now?”

“A couple of times. Our sister, too, not that he knows she’s our sister. Cora wasn’t a good witch,” Harry sips his drink, trying to decide on a path to go down.

Neal suddenly winces, though, “How old are you? Please tell me I don’t need to card you and then call the cops.”

“If you were anyone else, you wouldn’t believe me when I tell you I’m twenty-nine on July thirty-first.” Harry watches Neal’s face cycle through the predictable emotions of surprise, shock, disbelief and then befuddlement.

“You can’t be older than nineteen, at most.”

Harry shrugs, “Aging got shot a few months shy of eighteen. Immortality’s a pain when it doesn’t let you get any older.”

Neal shakes his head. “I know the feeling. Up until something near eighteen years ago, I still looked fourteen, three hundred and something years on. That’s Neverland for you.”

“Neverland?” Harry eyes Neal at the three hundred years comment, but doesn’t disbelieve him, “Did you see gramps while you were there? Is he like in the movie?”

“What?”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You don’t know? I would have thought as the oldest, you would. Peter Pan. He’s our grandfather.”


	7. rook or tower iv

Neal does not know a lot about his family tree and is apparently, actually called Baelfire, though he claims Neal Cassidy as a name for himself. A shocker for Harry – on both the name and obliviousness front – but becomes far more amusing once he talks to a worried then scowling Regina through a spare speaker-mirror, his sister having been very worried over his weeklong holdup in communicating.

“I’m the one with all the cards,” Harry contemplates the notion with a small smile.

“ _Well, not really_ ,” Henry says, interjecting with a grin. “ _You’ve told us, remember!_ ”

“Shush, heathen,” Harry glances at Baelfire and makes a quick decision. “Baelfire, this is your nephew, Henry. You also have a niece, Lily.”

“ _And Teddy!_ ” Henry chimes in.

“Teddy is my godson,” Harry explains to the silent Baelfire, who nods, saluting through the mirror. “Henry, let your mum and uncles have a private chit-chat, alright? There’s some grownup stuff you don’t need to be involved in right now going on.”

“ _Is this about Emma?_ ” Henry questions, getting confused frown from Baelfire.

“What do you guys know about Emma?”

“Stuff,” Harry says, Regina thankfully sending Henry off to school. Glancing at his watch, Harry raises an eyebrow. “He’s going to be late.”

“ _Late is fine. You’ve been missing. He’s allowed to be late – Luna’s just arrived to take him, as well. She always has perfect timing, it’s rather strange, Harry._ ”

“Luna is Luna,” Harry shrugs, before taking out the elder wand and enlarging the mirror, setting it down against the wall on a dresser. The motel room at least has that, for all it has otherwise is a double bed, a tiny bathroom and a tatty rug at the door. Baelfire hadn’t wanted to take him to his flat, which was fine, considering Harry is a complete stranger. “Okay, so why don’t you explain. It’s more your tale than mine.”

Regina sighs, before looking at Baelfire. “ _Henry is adopted. However, he’s still related to the three of us by blood._ ”

“So many relatives, man,” Baelfire shakes his head. “How’s he a ‘stiltskin then?”

“ _I’ll assume you remember knocking up Emma Swan,_ ” Regina says smoothly, face distinctly unimpressed. Harry coughs a little, trying not to laugh at Baelfire’s face.

“Emma- _no_ , oh my god, what have I done?” Baelfire puts his hands to his head. “Dammit, August!”

“ _Who is August?_ ” Regina demands, Harry looking at Baelfire expectantly.

“He- he’s from our Realm, here, supposedly looking out for her,” Baelfire explains. “She’s the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and has to break some sort of Curse after she turns twenty-eight.”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding,” Harry blurts out, interrupting. “Emma Swan is the _Saviour?_ Merlin’s balls, this is ridiculous!” Harry looks to the mirror, to where Regina has frozen, staring at Baelfire, who looks between them in wary confusion. Harry purses his lips, wishing he was in Storybrooke right now, with his sister who is _clearly_ in shock. Looking to Baelfire, Harry explains, quickfire. “Your sister is the caster of the Dark Curse. Your sister adopted her nephew, who is also the child of the one who will break said Dark Curse. This is all fucked up beyond belief and we were just looking to reunite with you and Zelena.”

“Who the hell is Zelena?”

“Our fourth sibling,” Harry says. Neal makes a face and Harry runs his hands through his hair. “She’s not in this Realm, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately? Papa had four kids!”

Harry shakes his head at his words. “No, no, sorry, I meant, Zelena is mine and Regina’s sister – no way related to you. Don’t worry about her.”

There is a short silence, before their brother loses it.

“I was having a normal life!” Baelfire throws up his hands. “I was normal! This is why I _hate_ magic!”

* * *

Kings Cross is mobbed, as per usual. Harry and Andromeda stand shoulder to shoulder, Teddy strangely quiet as he stands with them, trunk propped up on one end and Buttercup charmed asleep in her brown wicker carry-basket. Harry belatedly wonders if it’ll last long enough to get her the whole way to Hogwarts, considering her half-kneazle heritage, but quickly focuses on Teddy as his godsons control slips, turquoise shock of hair fading to a sickly green.

“What are you nervous about?” He questions, Teddy gripping his hand tightly. “C’mon, buddy.”

“There’s so many people. How am I supposed to make friends?”

“You get in a carriage and wait,” Harry says, before Andromeda scoffs.

“No, go and find them. First years will all have black ties and no trim to their robes.”

“Mixed signals, Grandma,” Teddy mutters under his breath, before hugging Harry extra hard. “I’m going to go in now. You don’t have to stay.”

“We won’t leave until the train does,” Harry shakes his head, pressing a kiss to his floppy-haired head. “Now give your grandmother a hug.”

Teddy quickly switches to Andromeda and if he cries a little, letting her soothe him, Harry doesn’t see, leaning over to have a look at Buttercup through the basket gate. Regina would kill him if the cat suffered any discomfort whatsoever.

Unluckily for him, Buttercup opens an eye, proving his thought about the sleeping charm wearing off because of kneazleness.

Harry sighs.

“You really had to shrug it off, didn’t you? I’m not going to replace the charm. Try not to bother Teddy too much on the journey.”

Buttercup gives a quiet yowl, before shutting her eye, settling. Harry stands straight again, immediately being blinded by cameras. Andromeda is quick to put Teddy and his belongings on the train as reporters appear out of bloody nowhere and question where he’d been, why he’s not aged and how had raising Teddy Lupin come along? Luckily, they actually leave him be in the few minutes before the train leaves and as it’s pulling out of the station – but Harry has to skedaddle as soon as it disappears, Andromeda shaking her head as he apparates them to the Ministry of Magic.

“You need to do better PR.”

“You need to make up your mind and decide if you’re living in America or not,” Harry mutters, before the witch brings him into her embrace, stopping him in the middle of his stalk to the elevator. Sighing and accepting it, Harry says his quiet goodbyes to Andromeda, who was apparently already returned to Britain.

His portkey home is alone.

* * *

In the town of Storybrooke, Regina is the power and power does what it wants – with the exception of when her oldest and yet, newest brother decides he isn’t moving to Storybrooke and is instead trying to track down his wayward former partner and the Saviour.

“Mama,” Lily walks up to her, holding a colouring book. “I drew you a picture.”

Regina takes the book, smiling tiredly at the green and purple dragon inside, colouring pencil drawn outside the lines and Lily’s name written in capitals at the top.

“Beautiful, sweetheart, but mama’s busy doing work right now.”

“Okay,” Lily leaves, Regina leaning back in her office chair as she contemplates Baelfire. _He has a speaker-mirror and a cell phone, so I can contact him any time I like._ She’d like to do that, she realises and after glancing at her calendar, she realises it’s Friday evening. _This is when Harry used to call, when we hadn’t met._

Picking up her office landline, Regina debates, wondering whether or not to call Baelfire or Harry. The choice is taken out of her hands, however, when the phone rings. Answering, Regina puts the phone to her ear.

“Mills residence, Mayor Mills speaking.”

“ _Draco Malfoy. Is scarhead home?_ ”

Regina blinks once, before rolling with the punches.

“Draco Malfoy. I do believe hell has just frozen over. Are you aware that you are using a muggle device?”

“ _I am. New Muggle Culture and Etiquette pamphlets and classes insist on knowing how to navigate new technology, as the rapid-pace invention and sophistication of previously banal muggle design is threatening the Wizarding World. Is Potter there, so I might speak to him?_ ”

“It depends on the topic of your eventual conversation,” Regina purrs. “Who gave you this number?”

“ _Granger-Weasley. I am in a rush here, Mayor Mills._ ”

“Topic of conversation.”

“ _The topic is regarding a life debt owed that can potentially be paid._ ”

Regina sits up in her chair. “I beg your pardon? What the hell do you mean by that?”

Draco Malfoy explains.

* * *

Harry turns up at Hogwarts angry at the world, Draco by his side. Being allowed entry into Hogwarts by a teary Hagrid, Harry is quick to go up to the castle, entering the Great Hall with little patience and much flare, interrupting the Halloween Feast.

At the head table, Minerva McGonagall rises slowly, Harry not wasting any time in speed-walking to her.

“Potter, slow down,” Draco complains.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry replies, before reaching the head table. “Headmistress.”

“Auror Potter,” she greet him.

“I haven’t been an Auror in years, actually,” Harry pauses. “Just Mr Potter, though I thought we agreed to call me Harry, now.”

“You called me Headmistress, Harry,” Minerva points out. “I assumed you were here on official business.”

“We are,” Draco says grimly. “We’re here to report the slow murder of three of your students.”

Queue the dramatic gasps all around.

Minerva reaches a hand out to the nearest teacher – Professor Sinistra – for support, gripping her shoulder tightly. “Explain, boys.”

“Wolfsbane, Headmistress McGonagall,” Draco starts. “As you know, I occasionally apprentice under Professor Slughorn, when my potions master is unavailable. On my last visits during the past week, I witnessed a first year potions class.”

“Teddy’s been complaining about being ill and this explains it perfectly,” Harry says, not looking back as Hufflepuff table explodes, his godson calling out, wanting to know what’s going on. “Malfoy can explain.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “I was, but you interrupted. As I was saying, I saw a first year potions class, comprising of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Professor Slughorn uses a different process to disinfecting students after brewing than Professor Snape, which is how I noticed and subsequently realised, which I do believe is because of the two thousand and seven potions market crash and the lack of ingredients for manufacturers, that only one type of cleanser is offered for first years to use,.”

“You can say soap, Malfoy.”

“Shut it, Potter. The only type of cleanser offered is one with wolfsbane as a base. Therefore, every time your two newest werewolf students, Annet Singh and James Vicarcroft and your new, miraculous hybrid, Teddy Lupin use the cleanser, they’re poisoning themselves and need immediate medical aid.”

* * *

“He’s a bloody cad, sometimes,” Harry mutters as Regina curls up against him, the movie being ignored as per usual. “A prejudiced, evil cad.”

“The is the eighth time we’ve tried to watch _Clueless_. Who are we talking about?”

“Malfoy, who I just let out of a life debt without realising he didn’t give a damn about the werewolf students. He was just doing it because he could get out of owing me. He could have changed the damn soap himself, made Slughorn aware, helped the damn students! He’s becoming a Master Potioneer, he could have done it easy!”

Harry is angry, Regina knows, but she doesn’t move from his side, staring at Cher on her wide TV screen. “There’s no point in being angry, dear. Manipulation is easy when the other believes what they love is in danger.”

“I _hate_ being manipulated. I hate it, Regina – and the fact that it was Malfoy just makes it _worse_.”

“I know, dear, though I’m sure this Professor Slughorn have each been thoroughly chewed out. The fact that Malfoy noticed it and saved the lives of three eleven year olds…”

“I still hate it.”

“I know.”

“He made both of us think it was _such_ an emergency, as well. While I know it technically _was_ , I just- he’s all about blowing things out of proportion. I hate it, Gina, I just _hate_ it.”

Regina nods then spins back the movie a few seconds and they continue to watch it, as if they’d never had the conversation at all.

* * *

When Harry saw Luna kissing Ruby in a back-alley, he’d stared before quickly turning around and walking back the way he came, trying not to think about how Luna had insinuated all those years ago that his darling niece could have been in Ruby’s position, when she was her old self. Intrusive thoughts cause him to hate himself, as he imagines it.

“Is there such a thing as brain bleach in the Enchanted Forest?” he asks his sister as he winces yet again, meeting her at Henry’s school before pick-up time.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Luna and Ruby are in a relationship.”

Regina looks at him, scandalised. “What did you see to make you think that?”

“I saw them,” Harry says simply, before Lily rushes up to him, slamming into his legs. “Hey, mini Mal.”

“Hi Uncle Harry! Guess what I did today?”

“What did you do today?”

“I went to feed the ducks with Aunty Luna!”

“Oh,” Harry grimaces, before safely deciding he wasn’t going to escape his friend today, in conversation or otherwise. “Did the ducks like you feeding them?”

Lily jumps up and down. “Yes! I gave them duck food and they quacked really loud and then the swans came over and they made really loud honk noises!”

“Lily,” Regina interrupts, “Tell Uncle Harry about school today.”

“School?” Harry blinks in confusion, before his eyes widen, “Wait, she started nursery today? I thought that was next week.”

“I went to school today!” Lily exclaims. “We played dress-up and sang clappy songs and had toast and it was really, really fun and I’m going back tomorrow too!”

“Yes, you’re going back tomorrow,” Regina grins, crouching down and reaching over, fixing her collar – and Harry doesn’t know how he didn’t notice her uniform, but to be fair she’d been wearing it whenever she could since she got it the week before. The bell rings for the school. “Henry’s about to come out, darling. Why don’t you go up on Uncle Harry’s shoulders and find him?”

“Up!” Lily orders Harry immediately, Harry obliging without another word.


	8. knights i

The tickle of magic is more than a tickle when there’s no ambient magic in Storybrooke. The mines are the most magic-infused area in all of the Curse’s purview and that’s only because the Curse weakens with Regina’s resolve.

Taking off his shoes slowly, Harry follows the trail upstairs and then left, to Henry’s room. Knocking, he waits until Henry gives the okay before opening the door, immediately looking to Henry’s schoolbag.

“Hey buddy…what have you got in your bag?”

Henry’s eyes widen. “Nothing!”

“Please don’t lie to me, kid, I can sense it.”

“…it’s a book.” Henry reaches forwards, opening his bag and bringing out a book. _Once Upon a Time._ “It’s full of stories about the Enchanted Forest.”

“Oh really?” Harry comes over, sitting down beside him, Henry shuffling to give him more room as they open it up. “What perspective?”

“Normal one. Heroes versus villains. With what mom told me, I don’t think it’s very truthful – not everyone’s mentioned and there’s no mention of you, or Lily or even everyone’s real names that I’ve seen. Look.” Henry flips through the book, coming to a page quickly with a blurry painting of a beautiful, dark-haired woman in a fancy dress. “That’s supposedly the Evil Queen. I haven’t read anyone calling her ‘Regina’ yet.”

Harry frowns at the painting of his sister. “You’re a good kid, Henry, but if even you notice things like that, maybe you shouldn’t be reading it – other stuff could be wrong.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong,” Henry immediately says, “just misses a lot of stuff out. I’ve read the first couple of chapters and they’re all mixed up and not in order.”

“Still…I’ll let you keep it, but we’re telling your mother tomorrow. I don’t want you being biased about something because you read someone’s version of it.”

“I’m already biased – I’ve got you two telling me stories,” Henry says cheekily, Harry elbowing him lightly before getting up again, feeling secure in leaving Henry with the book. But just as he goes to leave, hand on the door handle, Henry speaks up again. “Uncle Harry?”

“Yeah, kid?” Harry pauses, looking back.

Henry shuts the book slowly, looking at his lap. “I don’t think Uncle Baelfire’s going to find Emma before she turns twenty-eight.”

Harry lets go of the door handle, twisting to properly see him. “And?”

“Can you find her?” Harry looks up at him through his fringe. “Please? The town turns twenty-eight a week and if Emma’s not here-”

“Calm down, kid, I’ll find her.” Harry purses his lips. “I’ll need your blood though.”

“Here!” Henry holds out his arm, but Harry shakes his head.

“Not right now. I’ll send out a tracker tomorrow. I need to contact Baelfire and tell him you’ve asked me to cheat. He was pretty close, apparently, last time I checked in. He might be right on her tail.”

Henry’s shoulders drop. “But he doesn’t want to come to Storybrooke and let me meet her. He just wants to find her and keep her.”

Harry hesitates, before realising Henry’s right. _Baelfire knows she has a destiny here but…will he let her come? This August guy might interfere if he gets out of hand…he might just come back with her to take Henry._ That thought chills him to the bone, imagining Regina without Henry. Even with Lily in the picture, it’s difficult for him to imagine one without the other.

“Please, Uncle Harry?” Henry pleads, before pulling out the puppy-dog eyes. Harry immediately sighs.

“You know I can’t resist when you do that.”

“I know,” Henry replies.

* * *

“Baelfire, it’s Harry,” Harry says upon Baelfire picking up the phone. “How close are you to finding Emma?”

“ _Finding me?_ ” A womans voice comes through the line, causing Harry to freeze. “ _Neal, wake up and tell me who the hell is Harry and why does he want to know how close you are to finding me?_ ”

“Miss Swan?” Harry questions, before he hears a muffled voice that sounds like Baelfire. “Miss Swan, may I speak to you?”

“ _Just a minute. I’ll phone your number back._ ” She hangs up and Harry gets out his speaker-mirror, calling Baelfire and immediately seeing the two of them arguing in bed together, a pizza box on the floor. Emma is taller than he expected and far blonder. “ _Why did he call you Baelfire?_ ”

“ _It’s my birth name. You might guess why I changed it._ ”

“ _Yeah, it’s weird, but not as weird as someone still calling you it if you changed it. Who’s Harry?_

“ _It’s all really complicated, Emma-”_

“ _No shit, who is he?_ ”

“ _My newfound brother. We’ve known each other for something like a year now. My dad had some bastards since I was born, apparently-_ ”

“Hey!” Harry immediately glares, “If you ever call me that again Baelfire, I’ll curse you so bad you’ll be blind for a year.”

Instantly, Emma looks to Baelfire’s phone, but it’s off – however, Baelfire looks to the mirror, cringing as Emma follows his line of sight.

“ _Holy shit, you’re in the mirror!_ ”

“Actually, I’m in Maine,” Harry says stiffly, pressing his lips together. “Henry was right about you, Baelfire. Did you forget that it’s only because of _me_ that you found out about him?”

Baelfire flinches, getting up off the bed and coming closer, picking up the mirror. “ _Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-_ ”

“Mean to what? How long has it been since you tracked her down?” Harry doesn’t even know why he’s so angry at him. Maybe because Henry was right, or because Baelfire didn’t immediately tell him when he found Emma. _She’s practically family!_ He wants to say, shout even.

 _Why is family so important to me?_ Harry desperately asks himself.

Baelfire swallows, “A few months. We’re in Boston.”

“I don’t care where you are, I’m British, American geography means nothing to me,” Harry shakes his head. “Have you even told her?”

“ _Told me what?_ ” Emma snatches the mirror from Neal, peering at Harry through the glass. “ _What are you guys hiding from me, other than super-weird advanced mirrors?_ ”

“Henry Daniel Mills,” Harry says sharply, his nephews face swimming through his head. Baelfire starts to object to telling her, but this was the _point_ , trying to tell Emma Swan and then convince her to come to Storybrooke so she can break the Curse – which they have to make her accept when clearly, she’s a muggle through and through, even if she has got magic. “Regina Mills adopted him when he was a few weeks old in two thousand and one. Weirdly enough, her brother, Neal Cassidy, otherwise known as Baelfire Gold, is his dad, so Henry is both her son and her nephew. He’s my nephew, completely and he has a younger sister by the name of Lily.” Emma barely reacts to the name, but the movement is there.

_She remembers Lily Page._

“I don’t trust my brother,” Harry says it simply. “I don’t know him. He refuses to come visit us and it’s literally been a year since I saw him in person. While it was a closed adoption, Henry still would like to meet you, as would Regina and I. You’re welcome to bring Baelfire along, though if you ditch him, I don’t blame you. Henry knows who he is and still calls him Uncle Baelfire, if that makes any difference whatsoever.”

There’s a short silence, before Emma Swan shakes her head and throws the mirror onto the bed. “ _You’re insane._ ”

“Well done, Baelfire,” Harry shakes his head. “Introducing her to magic is your job, by the way. The twenty-eighth anniversary of Storybrooke and her birthday are both in six days. Try to remember what that means. Don’t force August to interfere again.” He waves his hand over the mirror, ending the call and leaning back into the sofa. “Dammit. Dammit all to hell.”

* * *

Regina is visiting Ruby and Luna at the Diner when she sees her, Baelfire leading her through the door to get ‘the best grilled cheese in Maine’.

“I doubt that,” Regina says it just to rile him up, satisfied when he sends her a dirty look. Leaving Luna at the bar, Regina comes over, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she does with her brothers – _with Harry, but I need to do something to make it seem like we aren’t awkward strangers_ – before looking to Emma, giving her a winning smile.

“Emma Swan, it’s good to meet you.” Regina offers a hand. “As Mayor, on behalf of the town I welcome you to Storybrooke.”

“Uh…hi.” Emma shakes, before glancing at Baelfire. “You’re the one that adopted Henry.”

“Yes, I am,” Regina nods. “Whatever you’re having here today, it can go on my tab. My treat.”

“Thanks,” Emma says tightly, hands shoved into her pockets. Regina eyes the supposed Saviour, with her jeans and leather jacket. Blonde ringlets tumble down from her head and amusedly, Regina wonders if her straighteners will blow Granny’s generator if she stays the night. “What do you recommend?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know, I only come here for the company.”

“And coffee!” Ruby calls over to add. Emma’s gaze slips past Regina to her, smiling a little before looking back to Regina.

“Your friend?”

“One of few,” Regina replies. “Harry brought Luna with him to Storybrooke when he tracked me down. She stayed and is rather limpet-like when it comes to Miss Lucas.”

Ruby, hearing her, scoffs, coming out from behind the bar to hook a gangly arm around Regina’s neck. “Come on Gina, don’t be a stick,” she says, then stage-whispers to Emma, “She calls me Ruby _all_ the time, this is just her being fancy and mayoral.”

Emma laughs a little to herself, smiling widely. “You’ve got a good friend, there, Mayor Mills.”

“Regina, please,” Regina offers a small, genuine smile to the Saviour because no matter her destiny, Henry is what’s important. _And he would never leave me for her._

“Then call me Emma,” the blonde replies, before looking to Ruby. “House special?”

“Coming right up!”

* * *

 _Tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap._ Harry thinks to the rhythm, only stopping when his fingers start to hurt. Tucking his hands in his pockets, Harry stares at his feet.

“You shouldn’t sit on walls that aren’t yours, boy.”

Harry twists his head around, freezing at the sight of Mr Gold. The man leans on his cane, eyes assessing him in a way that Harry hasn’t seen him do before. _Emma’s arrival is changing things_ , he thinks, before his father speaks again.

“Get off the wall.”

Harry glances down at the wall he’s sitting on. He knows it belonged to the house behind him, but he’s sat on it before to think and Mr Gold hadn’t cared in the slightest – Belle had even said hello to him once.

“What are you waiting for?” Gold taps his cane on the ground. “Scat.”

Harry stands up, frowning at the man. “Are you alright? You’re acting differently.”

“My life is none of your concern,” he says briskly. “If anything, I should be asking you who the hell you are. Regina doesn’t have any siblings, I should know.”

“Oh?” Harry thinks that _very_ funny and can’t help but grin. “Really? So, according to you, Regina is an only child?”

“I knew her mother very well.”

“Intimately, I know,” Harry grimaces at the thought. Gold makes a perplexed face.

“What do you know of me?”

“Too much, too little,” Harry shrugs. “I know that Baelfire’s mother is called Milah and that Regina’s mother is called Cora. I know your real name and I know mine – I think I even know the realm I was born in, but that ones tricky.”

Gold limps up to him insanely fast then, grabbing a hold of his collar and locking him in place, looking at him eye-to-eye. “Who are you?”

Harry swallows, hands coming up to tug at the one gripping his shirt. _How does he remember?_ “Let go.”

“Tell me who you are?”

“Harry Potter,” he says, trying to think of any reason – any reason at all – that Rumplestiltskin might regain his memories.

“Better than that,” his father demands, before he gets out of his grip finally, stumbling backwards.

“I told you to let me go, maniac,” Harry fusses with his shirt, straightening it and tucking it in again where it’d pulled, making his way across the road. “This is why people don’t like you, Rumplestiltskin!”


	9. knights ii

Once upon a time, a little boy found a book of fairytales. In a land where Maximus is never born to Cora and time drags on without Harry Potter’s intervention – who so intervenes in his own universe, jumping at the chance at finding _family_ – Henry Mills tracks down his birth mother and in a series of events, helps her break the curse, briefly dying in the process.

In this land, where Harry Potter has so kindly set up his life amongst the residents of Storybrooke, things are very different.

Emma plods around town, Henry showing her his castle and Regina inviting her for the best apple cider she’s ever tasted every second evening – though, usually she ends up with whiskey instead. Cider isn’t really her thing. She doesn’t start a rivalry with the very, very attractive – in her opinion, but also not because she’s actually the epitome of gorgeous, _fact_ – mayor and instead, she fights and hate-screws Baelfire, or as she knows him, Neal. After a week in Storybrooke, the hate-screwing stops and Ruby sidles up to her and invites her to room-share with Mary-Margaret Blanchard rather than stay at Granny’s, who’s been looking for a roommate ever since a woman by the name of ‘Lils’ and Ruby’s girlfriend Luna both moved out.

Regina welcomes her to town again. This time, her brother is by her side.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” Harry shakes her hand and Emma can see the relation, especially when Lily joins them later at dinner, crawling up onto her uncles lap and refusing to move to her own seat. They all have the same shadowy black hair and same light tan that even Henry shares – and Neal, too, when Emma really thinks about it. Regina and Lily have the same dark brown eyes – a shade that reminds Emma of a different woman – though Harry has a kind of distinct emerald green that Emma hasn’t seen much in her life.

When they eat dinner together that night, she can see copied mannerisms, like how they hold their cutlery like it’s all delicate china, the five year old included. It makes her feel clumsy, gripping her knife and fork heavily and without their grace. _They even sit up straight_. Emma thinks of Neal again, who’s like her, who eats more with his hands and elbows, who – as a relative of these people – should be like them. _But he’s not_.

Emma wants to ask questions, but seeing Henry across from her eating lasagne, she decides not to. _I’m here for Henry and we’re not exactly close. He wants to know me, just for a bit. He’ll get over wanting to know his birth parents soon enough – he calls his own dad his Uncle, for chrissakes._

The next day at the diner, at hell o’clock in the morning for someone used to late nights and late starts, Ruby introduces Emma to Mary-Margaret. Emma has to say, she has got the goody-two shoes thing down. They make conversation and strangely, Emma comes to like the woman who has a strange insight into each person they meet.

“I’m intuitive like that,” she teases.

Emma chuckles. “I can tell when someone’s lying.”

“We’ve both got our own little super-powers,” Mary-Margaret bumps her arm lightly and they chat a little longer before she leaves with her coffee, off to teach at the school. Emma is left at the diner, hot chocolate with marshmallows and cinnamon in front of her with a bearclaw pastry that Emma’s fallen in love with. She thinks of sharing an apartment – of setting down roots in this small town where her biological child is the son of a very, very hot mayor with a family that look like her and coming to this diner every day for coffee in the mornings.

 _Maybe_ , she thinks, catching a marshmallow with her top lip and pulling it into her mouth.

The bell rings and Emma glances up covertly out of habit, recognising Sherriff Graham Humbert. He picks up a coffee and perhaps it’s her lucky day, because he complains to Ruby about the workload piling up because of having no deputy. Emma thinks about _setting down roots_ , _apartments_ and _rent_ and realises this is part of that. _Take a leap, Swan_ , she orders herself, before sitting up straight.

“Hey, Sherriff,” Emma catches his attention, “What’s this about needing a deputy?”

Graham glances over, looking at her critically. “It’s a small town but I’m the only responder. We’ve got a couple hundred citizens. I’ll be the first to say I’m having trouble.”

“I was a bail bondswoman,” Emma offers, “I’ve done a couple of seminars with the both the Arizona and Boston police forces before on lawful capture of criminals and learning the books. I can call in a couple of references, if you’re still not convinced.”

“No, no, that all sounds fine. Want to come into the station and fill out some recruitment paperwork?”

Emma lifts her hot chocolate. “Let me finish his and I’ll follow you down.”

Graham grins. “Alright then. What was your name again?”

“Swan. Emma Swan.”

Graham picks up his coffee from Ruby, pointing at Emma seriously as he leaves. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

* * *

“The Curse is falling apart at the seams,” Regina mutters. Harry glances up from the ironing, finishing off a collar for one of Henry’s shirts before motioning for her to explain. “Prince Charming has woken up from his coma. Mary-Margaret was reading Henry’s book to him, at his behest. Now, there’s one thing to agree with the Curse breaking in the future, another to encourage it happening.”

“What other stuff might happen?” Harry questions. “Who’s Prince Charming in this world, anyway?”

“Do you know Kathryn Nolan? She works in the town hall with me, in HR.”

“Uh…maybe, I don’t know. If she works in your building, then probably.”

“Her husband,” _and not Mary-Margaret’s_ is left unsaid. Harry winces.

“True love in your world seems to be a pretty powerful thing. This isn’t going to end well, is it?”

“Definitely not.”

* * *

A few days later, Regina is greeted by Gold in her office. Or rather, Rumplestiltskin – Harry’s told her his memories have returned, though Regina isn’t aware how, exactly.

“You couldn’t have scheduled an appointment like everyone else?” Regina looks to the harried-looking Moe French, who both flinches and glares at the sight of the pawnshop owner, probably thinking of his dearest Belle. “Mr French, our business is done for the day. You can get paid when you actually manage to send the right bouquet.”

“I need that money,” Moe hisses, a darkly amused smile drifting onto Rumple’s face as he seemingly understands why. Regina sends Moe out of her office, threatening to call security, eventually watching him leave in silence, the door slamming shut.

“Hello, dearie.”

“Rumple,” Regina says shortly. “What do you want?”

“Answers. Who’s the boy?”

“If, by boy, you mean my brother, then no. You won’t get answers from me, not about him,” Regina says firmly, expression stoic.

“He can’t be your brother,” he shakes his head. “I kept an eye on Cora and I very much doubt your father had bastard children.”

“He doesn’t like that word,” Regina doesn’t let her amusement show, annoyed too much to let that kind of pleasure slip in front of him. _Daddy might not have bastards, but you do, Rumple._ “Please vacate my office, Mr Gold.”

“Or what? Who are you going to report me to? I own Storybrooke, thanks to you.”

Regina gives a thin smile. “I’ll tell your wife you won’t leave me alone and then see where you are – the couch, most likely.” Rumple tightens his grip on his cane.

“I remember everything changing. You said she was _dead_ -”

“I lied,” Regina glares, “I was the Evil Queen and the Evil Queen had leverage over you, leverage I have happily given up.”

“ _Happily_ ,” Rumple scoffs. “What are you playing at, Regina?”

Regina’s grip tightens on her pen. She wants to tell him, to shout it in his face and then say _I want to be happy, I want a family, because my family equals my happiness and the only family I ever had in the Enchanted Forest died for this Curse._ Her heart burns for her father, her children, for her brothers, for Andromeda, for her unknown sister, for both her fathers and her mother and for Teddy, who won’t be coming back to Storybrooke until the summer, the two weeks at Christmas far too short a time to make the journey back and forth across the Atlantic.

The ring of her work telephone gives her an out that she takes. Answering it, Regina is greeted by Harry, of all people to ring right now.

“ _Hey, Gina, I just needed to quickly check with you, am I picking Lily up from school today?_ ”

“I was going to, but I’m being held up.” Regina says, deliberate in her vagueness, eyes slipping away from Rumple. “Would you?”

“ _Yeah, ‘course. I’ve got nothing to do but housework and studying. Why did I decide to be a handyman?_ ”

“I’m busy right now,” Regina recalls him talking about how he’d like to be able to integrate running water and plumbing into the Enchanted Forest, should the broken Curse tug them back. “Lily has swimming today, too, remember.”

“ _Right, I’m on it. I’m on dinner-duty tonight._ ” He hangs up and Regina looks at Rumple, who _still_ _hasn’t_ _left_.

“How did you have a child?” He questions. Regina supposes it’s a valid one, considering time was frozen.

“She was like Emma, sent through to this world when she was a baby. She made the choice to relive her life, growing up with me rather than in the system. She blackmailed me into pretending I was pregnant.” Regina flushes slightly in memory. Snow and most of the town had been so embarrassingly sweet to her. _It was ridiculous. Even Gold sent a gift when she was born._

Rumple’s lip twitches, before he settles back into a frown. “There is no magic here.”

“Wrong,” Regina shakes her head. “It’s only a Land Without Magic here, inside the Curse. Lily even transformed into a dragon before coming inside the borders.” Almost immediately, she flinches at the reveal, Rumple raising an eyebrow.

“A dragon, you say, dearie? My, that’s quite interesting.”

“Don’t touch her,” Regina snarls, standing.

“Oh no, I won’t, cross my heart, Regina,” Rumple smiles widely. “Tell me though, is her other mother Maleficent? I always thought she looked too much like you and Maleficent really is the only dragon you know.”

“Yes, Mal is her other mother,” she grits her teeth. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Yes – who’s the boy, really?”

“I’m. Not. Telling.” Regina glares. “I would have thought you would be hovering over Baelfire, not Harry.” Rumple instantly clams and Regina grins maliciously. “Oh, this is good. He’s been avoiding you, hasn’t he? Baelfire’s been living her for nearly a fortnight now and you still haven’t seen him?”

“How is he here?”

“He’s Henry’s biological father, though Henry prefers to call him Uncle,” Regina smirks. _Here you go, brother. You might have sworn Harry not to reveal you to father, but I never promised._ “Yet another reason for you not to go against me. You wouldn’t want to lose the trust of your grandson, would you?”

“Grandson…” Rumple stares at her. “I don’t believe you.”

Regina laughs in a way she hasn’t for _decades_ , her eyes glittering in satisfaction. “I don’t care! So long as you stay away from me and mine, we’ll get along just fine, Rumple. Now, go back to your wife – it’s the least you can do, after how I changed the Curse for you.” Regina watches him stagger out, eyes distant as he tries to deny her words, before finally sitting back down, feeling a surge of triumph.

_I didn’t use my lineage against him, he doesn’t suspect a thing – he just feels **betrayed**. Well done, Baelfire._

Regina hums a happy song as she sets to work again.

* * *

“How are you doing, my little girlie? How are you?” Harry swings Rose around, causing her to let out a giggle scream. “You’re so much bigger!”

“I’m six! The last time you saw me I was five!” She says loudly, squealing as he deliberately swings her higher into the air before finally letting her down. By the stairs, Ron snorts, the two of them watching as she staggers slightly, obviously dizzy. “Uncle Harry, do I have a present?”

“Nope, no presents this time, sorry.” Harry ruffles her hair before looking to Ron, Rose latching onto his leg. “I do not remember Henry being this clingy and energetic at the same time.”

“Hugo’s less hyper,” Ron shrugs, “Rose, go grab your mum from her study. I doubt she heard the doorbell go off with how deep she is in her parchment.” Rose rolls her eyes, getting a grin out of Harry as they watch her run off into the living room, disappearing around a corner shortly. “It’s good to see you, mate.” They come closer for a hug, clapping each other on the backs.

“Same, but I can’t lie and say life isn’t good in Storybrooke.”

“We’ll have to visit soon, in case this Emma breaks the Curse and whips you off to lands unknown.”

“I’d find my way back here,” Harry frowns, the two of them meandering into the living room.

“I don’t know if you would, mate. Luna wouldn’t, for definite.”

“She’s Luna, though.”

“Yeah, mad as a box of cats, that one,” Ron shakes his head. “You’re happy, mate. I’ve _never_ seen you this happy, not at our house, not even when Sirius was alive.” Harry nods slightly.

“Sirius always came with so many conditions.”

“Yeah.”

They lapse into silence, only for it to be broken shortly by Rose reappearing with a shout, jumping into Harry’s lap as Hermione appears, a wet smudge of ink lining her jaw and her hair tied up in a bun, somehow.

“Harry,” Hermione smiles, “Young as ever.”

“Young as ever,” Harry repeats, before helping Rose situate herself on his lap, letting her play with his hair, unbraiding it and tugging it all this way and that as he talks to Hermione and Ron. Only when a particularly hard jerk makes him give out a small _ow_ does Hermione finally intervene, ordering her upstairs.

“But I don’t want to,” Rose whines, “I want to stay with Uncle Harry.”

“Uncle Harry will go early if you don’t stop,” Ron says in a serious voice, scaring Rose into hopping off his lap, running out and up to her room. Harry glances after her warily.

“Was that necessary?”

“The longer she stays away, the longer amount of time seems to pass,” Ron shrugs, “Then, when she sees you again, it feels like you’ve stayed longer. Kid psychology. Had to learn it or get duped by Fred and George, when I was younger.”

“Right,” Harry mutters, glancing at Hermione. “What about Hugo? Won’t she wake him?”

“You’ve lived too long without magic, or outside a magical household, I suppose,” Hermione fluidly takes her wand from her hair, waving it slightly, soft sparks flying. “Silencing charms, Harry. Monitoring charms, too. Rose might have grown out of naps, but I’m content to let Hugo take all the time he needs to stop. I value naps.”

“I know you do. Naps were your saviour, in Hogwarts.”

Ron laughs, “Remember when she fell asleep over her books? Horrified, absolutely _horrified_.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “It was over a hundred years old!”

“ _Horrified._ ”


	10. premier blanc i

Rumplestiltskin watches him. Or rather, he employs others to watch him, paying random townspeople that don’t have any significant ties to the ‘main plot’, as you might call it, to tell him things they hear him say and see him do, though there are things that Rumplestiltskin can see for himself. ‘Harry Potter’ started making impressions long before he arrived in Storybrooke. Regina has _cats_ , for sake of all gods that exist – and this Harry Potter is apparently rather insistent that he and Regina share a father, though never refers to him by name.

For some reason, that rankles him the wrong way.

 _Prince Henry would never have had the courage to have a mistress,_ Rumplestiltskin thinks. _Cora, however…_ Cora is a conundrum. He’d told Mr Potter that Regina was most definitely an only child, which isn’t true – Zelena, of course, exists, but in secret. In the long run, however, her existence doesn’t matter. Cora has two daughters, one whom she gave up for power and another she raised for more.

What would she do with a son?

Harry Potter doesn’t age, Rumplestiltskin remembers him as if he were another Cursed citizen – but only after Belle appears in his life as his wife. Remembering the _before_ , Rumplestiltskin knows that Harry Potter hadn’t always been in Storybrooke. Harry Potter had created ripples, like Regina and Henry could and did do, before Emma Swan came to town. He even brought other people with him – that mad blonde girl who’d somehow established a relationship with the werewolf, Maleficent’s daughter, somehow and Rumplestiltskin can recall some few years where an energetic boy with a coloured streak in his afro-styled hair had run around town until he went to boarding school abroad.

 _But why doesn’t he age, then?_ Rumplestiltskin questions. _What form of immortality does he have in his grasp?_ If Cora had yet had another child, whom had found eternal youth, somehow…the thought that he’d somehow lived without Rumplestiltskin discovering he existed is worrying. _I am the Dark One. Even if I’d missed it, those colourful gnats would have kicked up a fuss at some point._

“Mr Gold,” the boy – the teen, the adult in a young body, which reminds him too much of his father – nods respectfully as he comes to stop in front of him. There’s a baseball hat on his head and his long hair is in a low bun at the base of his neck, but the rest of him is perfunctory and crisp, Regina’s work. Rumplestiltskin only barely remembers a time when he walked around in t-shirts and low-hanging jeans, before Regina redressed him in button-down shirts and slim-fitting slacks that make him seem taller than he truly is.

“Mr Potter. Come to chat?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, posture atrocious as he tucks his hands into his pockets. “I don’t like speaking to you much, when you remember. You’re more violent.”

“To be fair, you surprised me.” Rumplestiltskin leans on his cane, leg throbbing. “You aren’t the son of Prince Henry.”

“No, I’m not. Neither’s Regina.”

“Indeed,” Rumplestiltskin eyes him. “Who is your shared father, then?”

“Shared mother, as well,” Harry adds, before shrugging at Rumplestiltskin’s raised eyebrow. “We’re full-blooded siblings, unlike Zelena and- uh.” He pauses. “Our brother doesn’t really want to be involved with us, I don’t think. I- I didn’t grow up well and I like collecting my blood-family. It’s a recent realisation. A sort of dumb one, but with the crappy life I’ve led, I’m entitled.”

“Entitled to what? Hoard siblings, nephews and nieces?” Rumplestiltskin questions, grip tightening on his cane. _He knows about Zelena._ “Does Regina know?”

“Know what?”

“Zelena,” Rumplestiltskin tilts his head slightly, quieting as one of the Cursed dwarves passes them. Once they’re out of hearing range, he continues. “Regina wasn’t ever supposed to find out.”

Harry frowns. “How do you know?”

“She was my apprentice, once upon a time,” Rumplestiltskin waves one of his hands, before adjusting his position, leaning on his good leg. “Answer the question, boy.”

“Don’t call me boy,” the other snaps immediately, glaring slightly before flinching. “Sorry. Just…Mr Potter, or Harry, even.”

“Touchy,” Rumplestiltskin eyes him. _Crappy life,_ he thinks, _most likely a terrible family, then. Being called boy is not a good memory._ “Answer the question.”

“Regina knows the full extent of our shared family tree,” Harry confirms, before fiddling with a golden ring on his finger, twisting it once or twice before his eyes flicker sideways. His hand clenches over the ring, before he hisses something under his breath, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“Nothing,” Harry fidgets, before seemingly steeling himself. “I was born in Wonderland.”

That stops Rumplestiltskin short.

“…Wonderland?” the Dark One stares at the boy, because that…that _completely_ changes the timeframe. “Not the Enchanted Forest?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually been there,” Harry says, an honesty in his voice Rumplestiltskin doesn’t want to refute. “My mum- not Cora, I mean, Lily Potter, she adopted me. She worked in the Department of Mysteries, studying the unopenable door. One day, it opened, when my mother made a wish for a kid, apparently. Cora and me were on the other side, in a kind of…room of doors. I can get the full report for you to look at, if you like.”

Rumplestiltskin’s eyebrows draw together. “You’re being helpful.”

“Yeah…” Harry fidgets more and more, Rumplestiltskin’s thoughts finally going down the road they hadn’t before. He grips his cane tightly, coming forwards slowly, hand coming up to grip the boy’s face gently. He turns his face up, then sideways, taking in his high, jutting cheekbones, soft tan that he shares with Cora, bony chin and large eyes that he recognises from long, old memories of his son. The scar on his forehead is like lightning and Rumplestiltskin briefly wonders at the _Sowilo_ he can see there, in the root of the giant, silvery mess. But his hand comes down abruptly, shaking slightly as he confirms everything for himself.

“You’re my son.”

“Uh, yeah. Hello,” Harry says, awkward.

“Hello,” Rumplestiltskin replies, voice quiet. “You…I never thought Cora would have named her son Harry.”

“I was Maximus at birth,” he shrugs slightly, a short silence following as something else occurs to Rumplestiltskin.

“You said Regina is your full-blooded sister,” he starts lowly, suddenly full of murder. His hand shakes for a different reason now. “That _bitch_ , _cheating_ me out of our deal!” He hisses, but he can’t _do_ anything!

That time is long past, now and Regina is long, _long_ grown.

“Dammit!” He twists away from his son, raising his cane and smashing it against the house wall, cracking wood slating and chipping the paint. Rage floods through his blood, anger at Cora and how she once again managed to manipulate him, cheat _him, the **Dark** **One**_ and he’s only _just_ found out, over _fifty_ _years_ _later._ Only after his cane cracks, snapping, does he stop, realising his foolishness. “Dammit,” he repeats, leaning on his good leg, swaying slightly as he tries to keep his balance. “ _Dammit._ ”

“Would…would you like an arm? Or your cane repaired?”

“I doubt you could repair it in the time it would take me to fall over,” Rumplestiltskin snaps, before his newest, youngest child comes over – _gods, three, three children, not one, not just Baelfire_ – arm tucking under his own tightly, taking the half of his cane he still possesses. “I’ve another in the shop.”

“I’m going to help you to the wall to lean on while I fix your cane,” Harry says instead, walking him over and then – of _all_ things – taking out a _wand_ , glancing about before flicking it lazily. “ _Reparo._ ”

Then, Rumplestiltskin watches as his cane repairs, the broken half flitting over and snapping into place, the cracks and breaks in the wood and varnish disappearing.

“That was magic,” Rumplestiltskin stares at the wand, narrowing his eyes. “How are you using magic in the Land Without Magic?”

Harry gives him a tight smile. “I told you my adoptive mother worked in the Department of Mysteries. What I didn’t say, was that Department is in the Ministry of Magic. The only Land Without Magic in this realm is Storybrooke.”

Rumplestiltskin has so many questions, but that doesn’t deter him from the original question, only changing it. “ _How are you using magic?_ As you _just_ said, Storybrooke is the Land Without Magic!”

Harry licks his lips, tucking the wand against his arm and- it disappears, invisible, _gone_. “My magic is a bit different, always has been. I’ve talked to Regina about it before, actually,” he frowns slightly, expression flickering. “Once made golden fire. My wand sort of twisted in my hand and blurted it out for a couple of seconds. Saved my life.”

“The Flames of Asgard,” Rumplestiltskin shakes his head, wondering at his son. “Why did Cora send you away? Obviously, you’re powerful – you have the blessing of gods. That rune on your head-”

“Wait, so the fire was because of my scar?” Harry interrupts, eyes wide. “You just confirmed _years_ of researching. Hermione’s going to be so pleased she was right!”

Rumplestiltskin narrows his eyes, “Hermione?”

“Best friend from Hogwarts,” Harry says, before pausing. “Uh, magic school. The Wizarding World has schools all around the world. Teddy’s there, right now.”

“Teddy? That hyperactive child with the blue streak in his hair?”

“Turquoise,” Harry corrects, before looking at his watch again. “I’ve got to go pick up Lily from school. Do you want to come?” He glances up and Rumplestiltskin goes to decline, wanting to process everything he’s discovered today, but then he realises: _this is my granddaughter._

Nodding sharply, Rumplestiltskin gives a tight smile back to Harry as he grins, limping down the street alongside him with his cane, that feels as strong as the day he first bought it, in Mr Gold’s memories.

_There is something to be said about collecting blood-family._

* * *

Henry flips through the Book slowly, bored out of his mind when he sees it. Pausing, he flattens the pages, peering at the fuzzy picture of two young girls, each caught in the grips of knights – and his grandmother, Cora, who in his head he liked to call _Nana_ , standing in between them. He looks to the story associated with the picture, quickly turning back a page to start at the beginning.

His eyes bug as he realises that, for the first time, he’s seeing the name _Regina_ – and _Zelena_.

“I’ve got to show Uncle Harry!”

But as Henry reads more and more, determined to finish the story first, the young boy realises this is far more precarious than he’d ever discovered beforehand. Shutting the Book, he puts it in front of him, near the edge of his bed and debates on what to do.

 _It’s not fair to tell Mom that she’s met Zelena before, if she won’t be able to reverse the memory potion_ , he thinks, frowning deeply. _Who might know about magic enough?_ Henry can’t ask Uncle Harry, because for all his wizard magic, he doesn’t know fairytale magic. He couldn’t help.

Just then, though, Bulldozer comes running into the room, Charlie at his heels. Henry’s eyes can’t keep up, but Bulldozer rams into the end corner of his bed, Charlie rushing past and jumping up to his window ledge, then out as Bulldozer twists, chasing him instead. But the knock to Henry’s bed caused the Book to wobble, before falling off the side of his bed. Lunging, Henry doesn’t reach it in time to catch it, watching as it falls to the floor, opening to yet another new image of a boy, standing beside a blue portal.

“What?”

 _I’ll have to go through the Book again, there are too many new stories!_ Henry thinks as he picks it up, reading a passage from the new story and blinking as he reads _Baelfire_.

“…Baelfire,” Henry repeats out loud, before shutting the Book and getting to his feet. _Uncle Baelfire will know and he won’t say anything to Mom if we can’t figure anything out!_ Getting himself together, pulling on socks and a pair of shoes before putting the Book in his satchel, Henry sneaks downstairs, taking the cordless phone from the entrance hall. He sees his mother in the kitchen, teaching Emma how to properly chop an onion and quietly sneaks into her study, dialling his uncle’s number.

_Uncle Baelfire will know what to do._

* * *

“So, why can’t Miss Lovegood use magic while within Storybrooke’s borders, unlike you? And don’t give me some bullshit answer, son,” Rumplestiltskin settles in behind his counter, watching Harry as he shuffles about.

“Well, I…I collected some items. I inherited an invisibility cloak from my adoptive father, technically inherited my ring, too,” Harry shows it briefly, the stone on full view and he wonders if his father knows the legend. From how his posture abruptly shifts, straightening, Harry guesses he does. “I won the elder wand from my classmate and it helped me defeat a Dark Lord. It’s a long story. But yeah, collected the stuff and now…I am the Master of Death and Death doesn’t exactly bend to different realms’ magic. I can’t use my normal holly wand when I’m here, but the elder wand, yeah, definitely.”

“You are _definitely_ my son,” Rumplestiltskin mutters. “Are there any exceptions?”

“Well, sort of? Yes.” Harry reaches into his pocket, taking out his speaker-mirror. “These guys are warded to hell and back. The creators are paranoid bastards and I’m quite sure I do not want to know how genius they really are if their wards can get around the Dark Curse. Stuff like potions ingredients survive, as well – Regina says that’s because they’re inherently magical.”

“Aye. Anything else?”

“Uh…” Harry tries to think of other magical things that work inside the wards. “The kneazles? They’re alive, at least.”

“Kneazles? What are _kneazles?_ ”

“Regina’s cats.” Harry elaborates, “They’re half-kneazles, a magical breed of cat. Pure kneazles are XXX-classified beasts. I think you need a license for pure-breds.”

“Every time you open your mouth, something more strange comes out,” Rumplestiltskin shakes his head. “Nothing more? What of how you hid your wand?”

“My holster?” Harry glances down at the dragon-hide leather, “Oh, I enchanted that. My own stuff works here. Bill taught me some cool stuff, when I went to Egypt one summer to learn rudimentary runes in action for the Auror Academy. No-one but the wearer can see it or summon their wand from inside. It’s one of the few things I can do wandlessly.”

“ _Wandlessly?_ ” his father says the word like it’s poison. “You’re reliant on a wand like some kind of _fairy?_ ”

“Hey,” Harry frowns at him. “The rules of magic are different here. Regina told me about fairy-wands – they aren’t like ours, really, I promise. Wands here are conduits for the magic inside.”

“In the Enchanted Forest, you wouldn’t have been brought up using a conduit,” Rumplestiltskin says, pursing his lips. “When the Curse breaks, I’ll have to rectify that.”

Harry’s eyebrows rise, “You want me as an Apprentice?”

“You’re my son, of course I’m going to teach you how to use magic properly,” he stands a little taller, shoulders rising, speaking as if it were obvious. Harry feels his heart pound in his chest at his words. _Belonging. I belong._

“Well, you’ll- you’ll have to beat Regina to it,” he tries to joke, smiling nervously. Rumplestiltskin rolls his eyes.

“She can focus on her dear Saviour – I might be old, but I’m not blind and a True Love child is going to have far more powerful and lighter magic than I want to handle on a daily basis.”

“They’re really obvious, aren’t they?” Harry sniggers at the reminder of how Regina and Emma act around each other.

Rumplestiltskin gives an uncanny grin. “If Regina’s not careful, she’ll be the breaker of her own Curse. The irony of that is infinitely amusing.”

“Agreed.”

Just then, the bell chimes and Harry looks back to see Belle come inside, raising an eyebrow at the sight of him.

“Oh? Hello, Harry. What are you here for, today?”

“Just the company, Mrs Gold,” Harry gives her a small smile, glancing at his father, who looks at Belle with a loving expression. _There is no way they aren’t going to actually get married, once the Curse breaks. Maybe Lily can be flower girl._ “I’ll just be off.”

“Don’t go on my account,” Belle shakes her head, going around the counter to kiss his father lightly. “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like some?”

Rumplestiltskin smiles at her, wide and honest. “Always, with you.”

“You sap,” she grins, before kissing him again and disappearing into the back. Harry wiggles his eyebrows at his father, who blushes slightly.

“Off with you.”

“Going to give us any other siblings any time soon, dad?” Harry walks backwards to the door, grinning wider as his father splutters, in a good mood as he leaves. Walking down the road, Harry feels on top of the world. _I just called him **dad** and he let me,_ Harry laughs under his breath, sure his good mood couldn’t be soured.

Then, he bumps into Baelfire and he’s proven wrong, as his smile disappears.

“Sorry,” Baelfire mutters.

“Sorry, too,” Harry mumbles, both of them awkwardly stood there, turning to face each other. “How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

There’s a long silence, people walking past them and cars driving down the road. Eventually, a motorbike draws up beside them, the owner drawing their attention.

“Neal, how are you?”

Immediately, Baelfire tenses, “August.” Harry goes onto high alert, ready to summon his wand to hand. Angling himself in front of his brother slightly, he faces the infamous meddler.

“And who are you, kid?” August eyes him, before offering a hand. “August Booth.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry says, not shaking his head. “What are you doing in Storybrooke? Emma’s here, you don’t need to intervene.”

August raises an eyebrow, looking to Baelfire. “Well, you talked.”

“What are you doing here?” Baelfire asks in a low voice. “What do you want?”

“I want to break the Curse,” he says simply, grinning at Harry. “What do you know about Neal, here, Harry?”

“That’s Mr Potter to you and I’d be careful what you do in this town, Booth,” Harry says in a warning tone. “The Curse will be broken eventually, without your meddling.”

August frowns at him. “You know?”

“Of course I know,” Harry rolls his eyes, looking to Baelfire. “What do you want to do with him?”

“Leave him be,” he mutters. “He’s not done anything…yet.”

“Yet, I hate that word,” Harry mutters, before looking back to August, who eyes them both carefully.

“I see I need to catch up on events. Mr Potter, Mr Cassidy.” He puts his helmet back on, kicking off again and spinning his bike around, speeding up the road, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

Harry looks to his brother.

“This is not good.”

Baelfire shakes his head. “No, it’s not – come on, we need to go tell Emma and Regina.” Harry nods in agreement.

“They’re on Mifflin Street right now. Regina took the day off. Emma’s supposed to be with her.”

“Right. Let’s go, then.”

The two brothers then walk in the direction of Regina’s home, feet slapping on the pavement and identical expressions of grim wariness set on their faces.


	11. premier blanc ii

Henry rushes up to his uncles as he spies them on the corner of Main Street. “Uncle Baelfire! Uncle Harry!” he comes to a stop in front of them, grinning. “Hey!”

“Hey, champ,” Baelfire nods, Harry reaching over to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“Hen, what are you doing here?”

“I’m on a mission,” Henry says truthfully, “but I can’t bring you in on it. I might not, still. Uncle Baelfire?” he looks to the man who is both his father and uncle. “Can I borrow you?”

His uncles exchange looks.

“I’ll tell Regina,” Harry volunteers. “You look after the midget.”

Henry wrinkles his nose, “I’m not a midget.”

“You’re shorter than I am,” Harry reaches down to press a kiss to his head. “Be home in time for dinner.”

“Okay,” Henry agrees, before being given a quick squeeze, Harry speed-walking around the corner. Henry looks to Baelfire. “I’ve got to show you something.”

Baelfire raises an eyebrow. “Alright. Show me.”

“Not here,” Henry urges, reaching over to take his hand, confident despite how his uncle tenses. Henry knows that people are angry at Baelfire, but he isn’t. He understands why he wanted to keep Emma – but it’s been ages and _everyone_ can see his moms making faces at each other.

Taking Baelfire to his castle, Henry is quick to show him the story about his mother as a child and her meeting with Zelena. Baelfire is quick to catch onto why Henry might be asking him questions and rubs at his stubbly jaw, pensive.

“We’d be better off asking your gramps,” he says reluctantly, after a short while. “I mean, it says it used water from the Lethe River, right?”

“What’s the Lethe River?” Henry questions, frowning, never having heard of it before.

“There’s some mythology in this realm from Greece that’s pretty accurate – it’s a river in the Underworld, where you go when you die,” Baelfire explains, brushing off his trousers in an attempt to keep his hands busy. “It makes you forget. People drink the water or they jump in and their memories get washed away, I don’t know which one and after, they get reincarnated, I think.”

“Reincarnation’s real?” Henry’s eyes widen. “So- so I could be a different person?”

“I don’t know, kid, maybe,” Baelfire shrugs. “Souls aren’t my thing. But hey, you could summon Hades and ask,” he jokes, giving Henry a small grin before Henry looks back down at the Book, reading part of the passage describing the memory potion used.

“Would your dad really know?” Henry questions, looking at his uncle closely. “If it’s really water from the Underworld, maybe we _should_ summon Hades – Uncle Harry says that there’s magic outside the town and we can both leave.”

“Summon Hades?” Baelfire repeats, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve got gumption, Henry, you really do – but you’re an idiot if you think Hades would actually help.”

Henry glares. “He would, I bet he would – only dead people are supposed to be in the Underworld, so how did Cora get Lethe water? It’s a mystery and if she got in, I bet he’d want to know.” Putting the Book away, Henry stands, going down the slide and making his way back into town, Baelfire scrambling to follow.

* * *

“So, uh…I just wanted to ask,” Emma starts hesitantly, “but what were those mirror things that Harry used to talk to Neal?”

Regina glances over at her guest, where she sits, clutching a wine glass. Shutting her novel and putting it to the side, Regina feels a flicker of amusement at how Grim is quick to jump into her lap, settling on her thigh, his head facing Emma.

“Speaker-mirrors are an unorthodox way to facetime without using the internet or any source of power,” Regina replies to her query.

“But…how? Electricity? ‘Cause, I mean, I hear stuff in this house, sometimes – and I’ve read some of the spines on the books on your shelves.” Emma licks her lips, seemingly bracing herself. “Is it magic?”

“Yes,” Regina watches her, seeing how she breathes in deeply before draining her glass. “Careful, dear, that wine deserves more than just being gulped down like water.”

“Sorry. It’s kind of a shock. You know, I should have expected this. Strange town, strange family, cats and books that tell you how to make potions that make your entrails dissolve-”

“I see you did more than read the spines,” Regina interrupts, frowning. _She shouldn’t have been able to open those kinds of books, let alone **read** them. I watched Harry ward them myself._ “Emma, breathe.”

Emma breathes in and then out, shutting her eyes and putting her glass down, clutching a couch-cushion instead, crossing her legs under her. Long lengths of blonde frame her face and it’s naturally wavy, Regina has come to realise over the past few weeks, as Emma’s straighteners had mysteriously vanished. Emma breathes for a little while longer, purposefully calming her heartbeat, Grim purring as Regina strokes his back.

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?”

“I am. One of high calibre, I assure you, though my magic is unavailable to me at the moment.”

“Why?”

“There is a Curse on the town, one that I wrought – it brought us all here, from our original land, where everything from the stars to the dirt is infused with magic.”

“Why did you curse the town?”

“I didn’t curse the town – I let loose a Dark Curse and it transported people here, gave them new lives that are far from happy. I separated spouses from each other, a few children from their parents…” Regina pats Grim off her knee, putting her own wine down and sitting up straight. “Has Henry shown you his Book?”

_Oh, how I despise that book._

He’d shown it to her recently, under Harry’s direction, though he’d not let her see its contents, adamant that he read it all first. Harry – who’d seen some of it – assures Regina that it’s PG as they come and black and white enough that Henry, who’d grown up knowing some of the stories inside, can see how biased the writer is.

Emma, at her question, opens her eyes, nodding. “Yeah, a bit. He told me some stuff about Snow White and the Evil Queen, like, stuff that isn’t in the Disney movie. I wouldn’t think you’d let him read stuff like that – it’s not an adaptation for kids, though it’s written like it is.”

“I understand,” Regina nods curtly, before Emma clenches her pillow.

“Last time he told stories to me, we’d got to the wedding of Snow White and Prince Charming. The Evil Queen threatened them with a Dark Curse. Was that you, then, if we’re talking about Curses and- and coming from different lands?”

“Yes.”

Regina feels like the world is against her.

“Yes, that was me.”

_Dammit, I’m telling the **damn Saviour** about a Curse she’s going to break! **Dammit!**_

Emma sucks in a breath, staring at her. “I can’t- I can’t imagine you like that. Like- being a murderer and a tyrant.”

Regina flinches. _Why does her opinion hurt?_ “I’m not that anymore. I don’t regret it, not the path I took, not when I got Henry in the end – but I wish it could have been different.”

“Well, maybe you would have adopted a different kid,” Emma swallows, reaching down to the ground where Grim has settled on the rug, scratching at his neck. “I mean, it’s not like I would have been…would have been there in that fairytale land with you.”

_She doesn’t know._

Regina deliberates, wondering. She leans back into her armchair, reaching for her wine again, watching Emma with half-closed eyes. The blonde focuses on Regina’s cat rather than her. The former Evil Queen thinks hard, thinking of things like _fairness_ and _fear_. Eventually, she comes to a decision, but her gaze strays to the clock and she gets up.

“The lasagne should be ready. Come. Let’s see to your creation.”

Emma scrambles to her feet, bolting ahead of Regina to the kitchen, wanting to see her first try at what she calls ‘Proper Food’. Regina walks leisurely behind her, feet bare – a mistake, in retrospect, as her kitchen hygiene standards demand proper footwear, but Emma has already broken her rule. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, she watches Emma crouch down on the balls of her feet in front of the oven, peering through the glass.

“It’s a big white on top, but there are like, dark orange bubble things where the cheese is burning,” the Saviour describes. “Is it ready?”

“We can always put it back in,” Regina replies, Emma immediately grabbing the mitts and taking it out in less than five seconds, narrowly avoiding a burn as she uses her toes on the heat-proof door-handle as she shuts it. Heart thumping – _she gives me more heart-attacks than Henry_ – she looks at the lasagne that Emma sets on top of the burners, nodding. “Well done. You’ve made your first lasagne.”

Emma smiles, openly and honestly and turns to Regina, bounding forwards to wrap her arms around her. Regina stiffens in surprise.

“Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!” Emma lets her go, still smiling, exuberance visible in how she shakes with excitement and Regina reaches for her hand with her one free one, the other still holding her wine. Emma squeezes tightly before leaning over, face slightly to the left in a _very clear way to show she’s meaning to kiss Regina’s cheek._

Regina twists her heads and lips meet lips.

Emma freezes, immediately pulling away but Regina follows her and then Emma is pressing their lips back together, coming closer. Their chests touch, Emma’s free hand coming to her waist, holding her secure as Regina opens her mouth, their tongues gliding together in a hot, wet mess that makes her core slowly burn at a low heat. Only when she tilts too far back, Emma leaning down to her, wine slipping out of her glass down the side to the dip between her thumb and index-finger, does Regina right herself, their foreheads knocking. Emma pulls away slightly, giving her room to breathe as she brings her wine glass closer to her face, quickly licking at the thick dribble of purple red.

“Uhh…kissing. Do- would- can we do that again?” Emma questions, stuttering slightly as she tries to find the right words. “More kissing?”

“Yes, Miss Swan,” Regina murmurs. “More kissing, if you aren’t opposed, of course.”

“Not opposed. Kissing is good. Cooking lasagne with you and having wine and then kissing is…very good.”

“Very eloquent, my dear,” Regina says, regaining some of her faculties. Her mouth tastes different and her lips are slightly numb – but she’s not shocked like Emma is. She can at least form proper sentences. At her words, Emma frowns slightly and Regina retakes her hand, lifting it up to Emma’s face to wipe a little at the red lipstick now smothered over her face. _I can’t be much different._ “I think we both need to wash up. Did you turn the oven off?”

Emma jolts, twisting back to the oven, taking a second to remember how it works before turning it off. Regina watches her, waiting till the light and the fan switch off before draining her wine – _hypocrite_ – and putting the glass on a nearby counter, turning and walking towards her downstairs bathroom, near the entrance way, the space corresponding to the equivalent linens closet.

In the mirror, Regina sees herself. She’s detached, almost, from the wide, dark eyes that look back at her, a slight flush running through her cheeks from both the impromptu make-out session and the wine and her lipstick – smudged beyond recognition and bordering her mouth rather than highlighting it. _I look like a teenager,_ she grimaces, getting some wet-wipes from the counter under the sink and working at her face, offering some to Emma when she appears beside her and shuffles around to her other side, reflecting in the mirror.

“Would you like to go out some time?” Emma asks in a faux-confident manner, though Regina sees her nervousness only a little harder it took to see Snow White’s and her precious Prince Charming.

“Don’t take me to the Rabbit Hole,” Regina warns, eyes flashing in the mirror. Graham had taken her a few times, before Henry and her stony reputation always took a beating for a few days after, despite the repeating days – the townspeople’s memories weren’t _completely_ shot, after all.

Emma nods though and then takes Regina’s elbow gently, turning her. Regina allows it, reaching for Emma’s collar as they kiss again, far more dirtily than before. Soon, Emma’s gasping, Regina unable to stop her own panting as Emma leans her up against the door. The towel rack digs into her back lightly, but it’s covered in towels, so it’s not a deterrent. Emma leans down further, kissing her neck, hands reaching up her body, tracing her figure but not doing anything else.

“Miss Swan, either continue or desist completely,” she hisses, shutting her eyes as Emma’s fingers hook under the edge of her pencil skirt, pulling it up and bunching it around her waist. A palm presses to her and Regina shuts her eyes, shivering, as simultaneously, Emma bites at a sensitive part of her neck. Breathing heavily, heart pounding in her chest, Emma circles through the wet silk of her underwear.

Trembling, Regina presses hot lips to Emma’s shoulder, kissing and biting, getting a hiss out of Emma before she pushes past fabric, thumb circling her clit. Letting out a short cry, Regina squeezes her eyes shut pressing her face into Emma’s neck, arms coming to wrap around her. She feels a pressure build, before abruptly bursting. _That was not enough_ , she thinks desperately, leaning into Emma before the other woman moves away, getting down onto her knees and pulling her underwear down. Regina’s legs feel slightly numb but she helps, lifting her feet at the appropriate moments.

Emma then takes an excruciatingly long few moments to look up at her, before Regina glares weakly, gusting for breath.

“Well? You must be down there for a reason, Miss Swan.”

“If you call me that again outside of having sex, I will seriously get hot and bothered,” Emma grins, before enquiring about dental dams. Regina takes a moment to take a mental stock of the bathroom, before directing her to the cabinet beneath the sink, at the back. Once she’s washed her hands, Emma puts it in place, quickly moving closer. Regina watches her determinedly, one leg over Emma’s shoulder as she starts to tremble again, grasping at the towel rack behind her as the heat in her belly coils.

She shuts her eyes, letting out embarrassing sounds as it goes higher and higher, the pressure increasing. Regina thinks Emma’s name slips from her mouth at one point, when Emma gets torturous, slowing and decreasing pressure at the most _inopportune_ times. She’s moaning and shaking, two seconds away from coming-

“ _Regina?_ ” her front door opens and Regina’s eyes fly open as her brothers voice echoes through the house. “ _Regina, this is important_ -

Emma’s tongue flicks and then she sucks hard, a long, high-pitched cry leaving her before she collapses slightly, half her weight on Emma’s shoulder as she sags, dropping. Emma holds her up as Harry calls out for her urgently, worry in his voice.

“She’s busy right now!” Emma shouts on her behalf and Regina is too weak-limbed to stand, but not that numb to the proceedings that she can’t glare at the blonde who peels away the dental dam, stuffing it in the nearby bin.

“ _Busy?_ ” Harry knocks on the bathroom door, “ _What are you guys doing in there?”_

Emma looks up at Regina with a grin. “I know your brother is young, but he seriously doesn’t know what-”

“Quiet, Miss Swan!” Regina hisses, dragging her leg back over Emma’s shoulder, nearly falling as her heel meets the tile at an angle. Emma stands, balancing her as Harry makes a strangled noise.

“ _Merlin’s balls, are you- oh my god, oh my **god** , Regina._”

Regina cringes, grabbing a wet-wipe and hurriedly cleaning herself before throwing it in the bin, tugging down her skirt, discarding the option of searching for her underwear as she twists, checking herself in the mirror. She feels a sharp pang of embarrassment at the red skin of her neck that’s already starting to bruise, before she opens the bathroom door, finding Harry there, looking particularly horrified.

“My apologies, Harry,” Regina says lowly, “that you had to hear that.”

“Hear- _god_ ,” he squeezes his eyes shut. “Thank fuck Henry’s out with Baelfire.”

His words blindside her, briefly, because _oh gods, **Henry** ,_ but then she actually hears what he says. “Henry’s out with Baelfire?”

“He needed his help with something. Baelfire and I were on our way here when he intercepted us. I was going to come here on my own after that, but luckily, I got side-tracked,” Harry grimaces, opening his eyes again. “Lily managed to convince me that she should have a sleepover at her aunties’ house. Luna and Ruby don’t mind. We all had dinner at Granny’s though, sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Regina forces out, “The lasagne is probably lukewarm now, anyway.”

“Yeah, uh…well, anyway,” Harry coughs, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway. August Booth is in town.”

Regina’s eyes widen. “When did he get here?”

“Don’t know. Today? He’s on a motorcycle,” Harry shrugs, glancing back at Emma. “I think it’s time to tell you whats going on, before he tries to fiddle.”

“Oh,” Emma says and the drain on her enjoyment is palpable. “Right. Regina already said.”

Harry raises a sceptical eyebrow. “Right. So, she told you how you’re the Saviour child of Snow White and Prince Charming, destined to break Regina’s Dark Curse and bring back the memories to the forgotten?”

Regina cringes.

“…I’m _what_ now?”


	12. premier blanc iii

The bell to the shop rings and Rumplestiltskin looks up from his ledgers, reviewing just whom he is supposed to be receiving rent payments from only to see Henry Mills, closely followed by an unfamiliar man with an exasperated expression on his face.

“Hello, Mr Gold!” Henry comes up to his desk, taking out a large book, turning it around to show him the golden title, _Once Upon a Time._

“Hello, Henry. What can I do for you today?” Rumple questions, glancing at the man who’d followed him, still standing by the door. “And who might your companion be?”

The man approaches slowly, eyeing him carefully. “Hello, Papa.”

Rumple’s eyes widen. “Bae.”

“Can we have your reunion later?” Henry interrupts, “This is important.”

“I very much doubt it, Master Mills,” Rumple murmurs, staring at his son – his firstborn and oh, that _still_ stings. _Cora will die_ , he thinks as he takes Baelfire in, how he slumps and makes fists with his hands. “Though, perhaps the long-overdue talk we owe each other can wait.”

“Agreed,” Baelfire mutters, before lightly pushing Henry’s shoulder. “Ask your gramps and don’t let him make you deal for it. He owes you that.”

 _Gramps,_ Rumple spins the word around in his head, staring down at the young boy he’d helped bring to this very town. “I won’t charge family,” he says evenly. “What can I do for you?”

Henry opens the book he’d laid on his desk, flipping through pages – pages upon which there are many words and pictures, pictures that immediately intrigue Rumple, before Henry stops on one of two girls held apart, the woman of his nightmares between them holding a vial.

“Mom and Aunty Zelena were given a potion made with Lethe water,” Henry says, before turning back two pages. “Read the story.”

Rumple reads the story. By the end, he’s shaking his head. “Cora always did put herself first.”

“How would you know?” Baelfire questions warily. Rumple eyes him.

“I did conceive two children with her, Baelfire, with a number of decades between them. I’ve known Cora since she was a young woman, desiring power and prestige. She was a millers daughter – which I believe was the reason Regina thought to become Regina _Mills_.” Rumple traces the corner of the picture, thinking. “Why did you come here today, Henry?”

“Can you reverse the memory potion?” Henry questions, eyes focusing on him hard, reminding Rumple of Regina. “Would you?”

“I would,” Rumple replies, before shaking his head. “Unfortunately, however, without magic, I have no way to. Unless Harry brought me potions ingredients from his stores, from outside Storybrooke, I have no way to create a reversal potion. The ingredients themselves would be easy to retrieve, with the exception of one – Lethe water, something unavailable to any of us, at present.”

“What if we summoned Hades?” Henry persists. “He’d probably like to know that it’s being stolen from the Underworld. You could trade information for some more!”

Rumple appraises his grandson. “You’re a clever boy, Henry. But once again, I cannot help. A summoning requires magic-”

“What magic?” Henry interrupts. “I can go outside the town and there’s magic there. Uncle Baelfire can go, too!”

“And what does your mother think of this?” Rumple leans forwards, hands on the glass top. “I very doubt my daughter knows you are here, in truth.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here and that’s the point – this is for her and if I can’t reverse it, I don’t ever want to tell her.”

Rumple looks to Baelfire then, who is looking at Henry with a pride that Rumple doesn’t quite recognise, until he remembers the spindler aunts and the way they looked at him, when he finally began to spin wool well. _He isn’t his father,_ the Dark One realises slowly, looking back to his waiting grandson and internally flicking a switch. _My daughter’s son. Not my son’s son. My daughter’s son._

The fact that Regina is his daughter still burns his heart, low-bubbling anger boiling high in that moment, once more. _I could have had her, I could have raised her. Mine._

“The summoning of Hades requires the sacrifice of a live animal. Your uncle can do that for you – gods don’t deal with children, in any case. He can be your go-between.” Pushing off from the counter, Rumple takes up his cane, limping over to a bookshelf, noticing Baelfire’s gaze shoot to his cane out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re limping.”

“No magic, therefore, no healed leg,” Rumple says, searching the shelves. “Being the Dark One, changing my body was a constant effort. An especially difficult endeavour, as my injury was self-made for self-serving purposes. Even darkness is fair.” Finding the small black book, he takes it from the shelf, going back around to the main counter, grimacing as said injury aches, causing his hand to shake, cane handle wobbling. Placing the book on top of Henry’s, he flips it open, skimming the pages before finding the ritual in question.

“Here,” he takes a piece of paper from a nearby notepad, placing it inside and marking the page, before shutting it, handing it over Henry’s head to Baelfire. “Don’t let the boy see inside. There are darker magicks in there that he should never see.”

“And me?”

“You despise magic,” Rumple says, forcing the words from his mouth with gritted teeth. “You, at least, I can trust that book with. Don’t let anyone else see it. _Especially_ your siblings.”

“Yes, Papa,” Baelfire puts the book inside his coat. “Do we need anything for it?”

“Ashes from a natural fire, to draw the required Greek letters on the forest-floor, a sharp knife and an animal sacrifice – and a blindfold.”

“A blindfold?” Henry wrinkles his nose, brows knitting together. Rumple smiles at him, unamused.

“Aye, a blindfold, so you don’t see your uncle murdering some poor creature in front of you.”

Henry swallows, before Baelfire taps his shoulder. “C’mon, kid. We can just go to the town border now. I think I know where it is.”

“Take my car,” Rumple takes the keys from his pocket, throwing them over to his son, who catches them out of the air easily. “Good luck.”

Baelfire nods at him, Henry not bothering to say goodbye before they both leave. Rumple breathes in, clutching his cane.

 _That wasn’t so hard,_ he thinks, before a sound attracts his attention, Belle coming out from the back room. He stiffens.

“Rumple, what’s going on?” she asks, glancing at the door and back, clutching who used to be Cinderella’s baby to her chest. “They- that man called you- called you his _father_ and then you were talking about siblings-”

Rumple steps forwards, taking her hand. “Belle, I promise you, things will make sense in time. I can explain, if you wish me to, but it’ll be strange to perceive as truth, when we live as we do.”

Belle looks at him with fiery eyes, squeezing his hand. “I love you. You wouldn’t lie to me.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Rumple shakes his head hurriedly, leaning down, kissing her greedily. She kisses back and it’s like a dream – his princess and his maid, but at the same time, his wife and his equal. He doesn’t want to lose this – which he will, when the Curse breaks. Even the baby girl in her arms, Alexandra, he’ll lose, because Belle will most _definitely_ give her back once she remembers, despite adopting her with him only a few weeks beforehand. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she murmurs against his lips, before pulling away. “Now, explain to me, _tell_ me.”

“I will, but not here,” the Dark One nods. “I’ll tell you everything, Belle, my beauty.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Rumplestiltskin.”

* * *

“Hey, Emma,” comes Mary-Margaret’s tired voice as she enters the flat. Emma looks up at her, sucking in a sharp breath. Mary-Margaret frowns at the movement, lowering her tea from her lips. “Emma? What’s wrong?”

“I-” Emma doesn’t know what to think. She’s been loaded with information and doesn’t know where to fire the emotions released. The woman in front of her is her _mother_ and she’s Cursed to have a not-so-covert affair with a married man – who is Prince Charming, because Mary-Margaret is _Snow fucking White_ , making David Nolan her _dad_. To her horror, Emma feels her eyes twinge in that familiar, eye-watering way, Mary-Margaret quick to rush over as Emma lets out a sob, hand clapping over her mouth.

“Oh, _Emma_ ,” thin arms wrap around her, pulling her into a tight embrace as she cries into Mary-Margaret’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Emma doesn’t answer, letting Mary-Margaret soothe her, eventually calming enough to hug her back, extricating her arms from inside the hug to wrap around her new roommate who _shouldn’t_ be her roommate, who should have been her _mother_ and not her tentative friend. _I should have been a princess in a forest with parents who loved me. I should have grown up in a castle with pretty dresses and stupid tiaras that I probably wouldn’t have worn anyway._

It’s all Regina’s fault.

Emma had known that Regina was dangerous in the way you know a cat has claws. She’d seen it when she first saw her gaze harden at the sight of Neal, practically shooting _daggers_ and the fact that Emma didn’t get the same treatment was a testament to how they first met. Emma doesn’t want to imagine any other meeting, because it means thinking that things like learning how to make lasagne didn’t happen, that having a positive relationship with a woman didn’t happen.

_If I’d grown up a princess, Regina probably would have been dead or locked up or still trying to kill everyone._

She thinks of Henry and young Lily, who’s turning five in a few months and is apparently a de-aged version of her old friend, who was so certain about wanting a do-over that she asked for one and got it. Emma imagines doing the same, but she can’t imagine ever agreeing – it makes her horrified to think about it, giving up her life which she’s worked _so hard_ to get through. Lily might have lived a depressing life and made that choice, but Emma is never going to follow her. If – when, if, when, if – her parents get their memories back, they might want that for her.

Emma hugs Mary-Margaret tighter, before letting go. _You sent me through a wardrobe. You don’t get that chance with me, not like Lily does with her mother._

“Do you want to tell me what’s the matter?” her roommate questions, eyes warm and accepting, with not a hint of pity.

“No, not really. Maybe later,” Emma chokes out.

Mary-Margaret takes her hands, squeezing them. “Well, do you mind if I talk to you about my woes instead? We can bring out the scotch,” she promises and Emma finds herself sitting on the sofa with her cursed mother, drinking scotch and listening to her talk about David and how he won’t leave his wife for her, despite how he claims to love her.

Emma wonders how long it’ll take her to break the Curse.

_I hope Kathryn has a partner waiting for her on the other side._

* * *

“Andromeda Tonks,” Harry says clearly to the speaker-mirror. It swirls briefly, before turning blue, soft italicised words appearing on the misty surface. _This person is unavailable for a call right now._ Looking to the clock over his bathroom door, Harry tries remembering what time it would be in Britain right now, before sighing and giving up, just calling anyway. “Teddy Lupin.”

The mirror swirls, blue fading before an image rises, Teddy’s face appearing- _no,_ Harry corrects himself on seeing the pastel blue-turquoise hair, olive skin and round cheeks, _Thea’s face._

His goddaughter smiles on seeing him. “ _Harry! How are you? It’s been ages since we talked!_ ”

“I talked to you yesterday. What time is it over there?” Harry tries to see around her, catching sight of a candle-lit room, black hangings closed shut around her bed. “Are you supposed to be asleep still?”

“ _No, I swear – I’m just waiting for Dave to get out of the shower._ ” She rolls her eyes. “ _And before you get on at me, I know that I should be in the girls dorm right now, but I’m just having a face day, not a body day. It’s the morning, like, seven._ ”

Harry relaxes slightly at that, sitting up in his bed and setting the mirror down, using a cushion to prop it up. “Alright, I’ve got you. What have you got today?”

“ _Double potions, charms, then ancient runes, double study and then astronomy, at midnight. I’m going to nap through study, I think._ ”

“That’s what I did. Hermione insisted – we didn’t complain.”

Thea smiles, dimples appearing. “ _Aunt Hermione sent me a planner for revising! She says I should be extra prepared for end of year exams and that she’ll take me to see the dragons in Romania with Uncle Charlie in the summer if I’m in the top ten percent of students!_ ”

“She’ll what now? When would she take you?” Harry immediately frowns, grimacing shortly after as the third year girl’s smile drops. “I mean, it’s fine with me, but you come to Storybrooke for the summer. Everyone here misses you when you’re gone.”

Thea’s expression wavers. “ _But…it’s_ dragons _, Harry. I haven’t seen one since Lily turned into one, years ago. I barely remember what she looked like._ ”

Harry rubs his head, tugging at his hair. “The Curse might be broken by then. You’ll be able to see Lily and Maleficent – Maleficent _is_ a dragon right now, even. What’s so special about dragons that you can’t even go on rides with?”

“ _…I’ll write to Aunt Hermione. Maybe she’ll put together a photo-album for me,_ ” Thea hums, before rubbing her eyes. “ _How’s things in Storybrooke, anyway? Have you told Emma?_ ”

“Last night. She’s not taking it well. She’s avoiding us like the plague. Regina’s pining.”

“ _You need to make a moving picture with them in it,_ ” Thea says, twirling a piece of pinking around her finger. “ _Or get a family photo._ ”

“Maybe both. We’ll get one in the summer. Hey, maybe the Weasley’s can come over, make a holiday of it.”

“ _Is there even space for us all?_ ” Thea questions, slightly scandalised. “ _Is there a hotel in Storybrooke? Are there even empty houses?_ ”

“A few, but they’re not hospitable, not really. I suppose I could learn about enchanting tents,” Harry thinks for a second, before remembering. “But the Curse might be broken by then, anyway.”

“ _What’s going to happen, Harry, when it breaks?_ ”

“I don’t know.”

“ _Don’t leave me behind,_ ” she pleads, face coming close to the mirror. “ _Please, don’t let the Curse take you all away to the Enchanted Forest and leave us all. You- you’re my dad, Harry, my uncle and my godfather and my dad all in one. Don’t leave me!_ ”

“I won’t, I promise, Ted, Thea,” Harry swears, picking up his speaker-mirror. “I swear, I won’t let myself be taken there without you or anyone else in our family.”

“ _You swear?_ ”

“I swear on my magic,” Harry vows, taking the elder wand from his holster and saying it again, magic glowing at the end of his wand once he’s finished. “You see?”

“ _I see,_ ” Thea nods, before a muffled shout comes through the mirror. “ _I’ve gotta go before Jason takes the bathroom. I love you._ ”

“Love you too, pup,” Harry watches her wave before the call ends, her mirror closing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to add as a permanent note: if you want to know the fate of a different character not in the main storyline (Grace, Mulan, Pongo, etcetera), you're welcome to drop a review saying so and I'll investigate their life via an interlude/snapshot. Please don't ask about next gen characters - I'll get to them eventually, either in the main story or in a slice of life sequel.


	13. bishops of clerical distinction i

the previous evening

It takes Henry’s uncle a while to catch an animal. Henry’s made to wait in the car and he flips through the Book, looking for new stories. He’s reading about Prince James – who isn’t acting like Prince Charming, like _at all_ – and his journey with Jacqueline up the beanstalk when Baelfire returns, knocking on the window.

“C’mon, kiddo,” he looks at Henry grimly, before leading him into the forest, where a small fire is burning, a rabbit lying on the ground beside it. Henry peers at it, stepping closer, but Baelfire puts a hand on his chest. “It’s still alive. Don’t go near it. I knocked it out. It might have diseases – I’ve already washed my hands. Help me pat down the ground, over there.”

“Okay,” Henry goes over to a cleared bit of ground, autumn leaves scraped out of the way. He gets down onto his knees, unafraid to smooth out the moist earth with his bare hands as his uncle puts out the fire, hissing as the heat burns his fingers. When Henry’s done, he sits back, waiting and watching Baelfire kneel in front of the empty patch, using the ash to spell out strange symbols, before bringing over the rabbit.

When he takes a pocket-knife from his jacket, Baelfire looks to Henry. “I want you to turn around and not look, okay?”

“What if-”

His uncle raises the pocket-knife. “We either do this, or we don’t. I’m in charge here, Mills. Now, you’re going to turn around and I’m going to summon Hades.”

There’s a tense silence before Henry turns around, putting his hands over his eyes. He listens carefully though – and hears a tearing sound, before his uncle speaks again, saying Hades’ name over and over. Henry counts over sixty-three repeats before losing track finally, his uncle shortly stopping and Henry lowering his hands from his eyes. Almost immediately, he jumps, the blonde man in front of him staring at him with obvious fascination.

“I haven’t been summoned in hundreds of years. Who calls for me?”

Henry hears his uncle stand, before he speaks lowly. “Hades. We’d like to talk, maybe strike a deal, if that pleases you.”

Hades looks to Baelfire slowly, raising an eyebrow. “I know who you are, Baelfire, son of Rumplestiltskin and Milah. Your mother lives in my realm, you know, so very far from moving on. Ironically, she guards the children.”

“Hello,” Henry interrupts as his uncle flinches, raising his chin and straightening his shoulders. Hades looks over at him sharply. “Did you know that someone snuck into the Underworld and stole from you?”

“Excuse me?” Hades steps closer, leaning down slightly. “Who? What did they steal?”

“Lethe River water,” he says, Hades immediately frowning, making Henry nervous. “It was my grandma, Cora. She made my mom and my aunty forget.”

“Cora, the Queen of Hearts…now, I could believe that, but I doubt very much that she would use such a powerful substance on her children…wait, when did Cora get a chance to use that on Zelena?” an alarmed expression forms on Hades’ face.

“You know Zelena?” Baelfire questions.

“I do. She and I…we’re acquainted,” Hades says abruptly, before Henry gets the urge to look at the Book. He resists the urge, but his hand finds its way to his satchel band. “What deal did you want to make?”

“We want to reverse it, the memory potion she used,” Henry explains, frowning lightly at the God. “Grandpa said he could make it, but he needs more Lethe water.”

“Rumplestiltskin is Cursed, right now, little boy,” Hades narrows his eyes. “That town is lacking magic, too. I might not have been frozen, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the realms aren’t. Learning everything about it, trying to break it-”

“Emma’s here now, she can break it, she will,” Henry interrupts. “Grandpa remembers and potions ingredients brought into the town work, so he can do it. Can we have some Lethe water, please?”

Hades purses his lips, crossing his arms. “If he manages to make an antidote, he _must_ save some for Zelena. If Cora has crossed paths with Zelena before, she’ll want to know.”

“We don’t know where she is,” Henry whispers, cringing. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s in Oz. Harry Potter will be able to get there – he knows how,” Hades says, before disappearing into thin air. Henry’s eyes widen at the blatant display of magic, looking to Baelfire as he inhales sharply.

“Oz? Like the Wizard of Oz?”

“I’ve never been, but yeah, kid,” Baelfire murmurs, still staring at the spot where Hades disappeared. Henry goes to speak again, but then he sees the rabbit on the ground, its guts spilling onto the dirt. His eyes widen and Baelfire curses, forcing Henry to turn away. “Don’t look, Henry.”

Henry, shocked at the sight of it, sways slightly, eyes still wide. He wants to turn back, but his stomach rolls as he remembers the intestines half-out of the rabbit’s body and the small organs- his stomach rolls again and he’s sick, throwing up just as Hades reappears.

“What happened?” the God jumps out of the splat-zone as Henry empties his stomach, a large jar in hand. “Why is he being sick?”

“Saw the sacrificed animal – is there any other way to summon you without sacrificing?” Baelfire questions, rubbing Henry’s back. “Get it out, kid.” Once he’s finished, his eyes watering and his throat sore, Henry looks back up at Hades, who is looking at him and the pile of sick with a grimace.

“Is- is that the Lethe water?” Henry questions, still feeling nauseated.

“It is, yes. Remember, save some for Zelena,” Hades hands the jar over to Baelfire, skirting the sick. Then, he disappears and Henry and Baelfire are alone again.

* * *

“-you too, pup.”

Regina opens Harry’s door, poking her head in. “Hey.” Harry looks over at her from his bed, tucking his speaker-mirror into his shirt-pocket.

“How’s Henry and Lily?”

“I think Lily was copying her brother,” Regina says, referencing how Henry had complained of feeling ill – he certainly looked it, unlike Lily. “I’m going to go into the office. I can’t afford to fall behind on my paperwork. Are you okay looking after them both?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry gets up, grabbing a woollen Weasley pullover, the emerald colouring clashing with his pale blue shirt. “Have they had lunch yet?”

“Yes. There’s soup on the stove,” Regina replies as he walks over, reaching to give him a quick hug, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. “Harry?”

“Regina?” he hugs her back before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Do you think Emma hates me?”

Her brother snorts. “Merlin, no, definitely. You’re as equally infatuated with each other, there’s no _way_ she hates you. I think…I think she’s just going over things. It’s not every day you learn your mother’s a fairytale character.”

“It’s not every day you learn your sister is, either,” Regina replies, making Harry smile fondly, shaking his head.

“I was more shocked over the Peter Pan thing.” However, it’s then that her brother freezes, eyes going wide as he looks to her sharply. “Shit.”

“Language,” she immediately snaps, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

“Uh…” Harry clears his throat, flushing. “I talked to dad. He hasn’t approached you, yet?”

“I told him about Henry and Baelfire being related last week, slipped up about Lily a bit, too, but the Henry thing took his interest more. I haven’t seen him since,” Regina swallows the feeling of fear. “What did you tell him?”

“I…I told him that we were siblings and how. He lost his temper and smashed his cane. I fixed it and told him about-” Harry cuts himself off, motioning to his body quickly. Regina stares in horror.

“You _told_ him you’re immortal?” she hisses. “Why would you do that, you idiot? He’s the _Dark One._ ”

“He’s our dad,” Harry replies, obviously hurt, expressions twisting to reflect it. Regina tries not to let it affect her, but like Henry, Harry had wormed his way into her heart over the last ten years. “What was I supposed to do? Let him try limping home without it and fall to the ground?”

Wincing in chagrin, Regina shakes her head. “No. Sorry. I just…he’s an all-powerful being of dark magic. He’s hundreds of years old and I worry, Harry. What if he tries to take away the Hallows?”

“He can’t,” Harry’s voice sharpens, green eyes flashing black, causing her to abruptly take a step back as a dark power invades the room, chilling her to the bone, “and it would be a bad idea to try.”

Regina swallows at his tone of voice. “You- your eyes, they changed colour.”

Harry frowns, blinking as the dark power abruptly leaves. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Regina rubs her arms, hairs standing on end. “You should…talk to Death, more. You obviously don’t know much about your powers.”

Harry bristles slightly, but doesn’t refute her, slipping past her to walk across to Lily’s room. A thought occurs to her as his young reflection catches on a mirror.

“They might be able to let you age some years,” she says, causing her brother to freeze in place, his hand barely touching Lily’s door-handle. Regina pounces on the opportunity. “You’ve been seventeen years old for over a decade, doesn’t it grate on you? Ask and see.”

“…I’ll think about it.”

* * *

The next few days are strange – Regina sees Emma again, but only because Graham asked her to go see what’s wrong at the shop, where Hansel and Gretel, otherwise known as Ava and Nicholas Zimmer, are shoplifting, blaming Henry for their misdeeds. Their conversation is halted and stunted, but Regina later in the day finds their conversation running smoothly, despite how they’re both on different sides of an argument.

Regina and _Mary-Margaret Blanchard_ are on the _same_ side. It’s almost too strange to be real, but both women finds themselves turned around by Emma’s pleading.

“Please, if I can find their dad…”

Regina reminds the deputy that Graham would be reporting them soon enough. “You’d better work fast, Swan,” she says softly, before Emma nods and leans in, kissing her. It’s so unexpected, but Regina is quick to reply, gloved hand coming to press against her cheek gently, holding her in place. Mary-Margaret makes a sound of surprise but Regina ignores her – it would be different if Mary-Margaret were actually Snow White and knew who Emma truly was to her.

If Snow White was there, Regina would have wanted someone _filming_ her reaction, bound to be scandalised and full of gasps, splutters and denial.

When Emma pulls away, smiling slightly, Regina rolls her eyes and points at Ava and Nicholas.

“There isn’t room for them here. Let me house them, for now.”

“Sure – I’ll just double-check with Graham before bringing them over.”

Regina nods, glancing at the clock. “I need to depart. Harry will have dinner ready, soon.”

“Have you eaten my lasagne?” Emma looks at her, half-hopeful, half-wistful.

“We did. Next time, you’ll get a piece,” Regina promises.

“Next time?”

Regina rolls her eyes. “Yes, Miss Swan, next time.” Kissing her again shortly, she leaves, only sparing one last glance for the two children who had trespassed on her land.

* * *

Miners Day comes and goes, leaving Graham investigating who sabotaged the electrics – because someone did sabotage the powerline, smashing it with some kind of hoe or axe.

“Who would do that?” Emma questions, flicking a pen back and forth in her hand as she leans back at her desk. “There’s no point.”

“The only people who benefited were the nuns,” Graham shakes his head. “Their candles raised something like five thousand dollars, overall.”

Emma’s eyes widen dramatically. “Five _thousand?_ That’s ridiculous!”

“Three dollar candles, some sold for more than that, during a blackout at a festival,” Graham shrugs, before the phone rings, Emma answering it. After telling Mrs Ginger she’d phone Archie, to get Pongo sorted out, she hangs up, at the same time, Kathryn Nolan storming into the station. Graham stands, “Mrs Nolan, what can we do for you? Who’s this?”

Emma raises an eyebrow at Kathryn’s companion, a young, shaking blonde girl. Kathryn has pursed lips and a tight grip on the girl’s wrist.

“You need to lock Ashley up.”

“No, they don’t,” the named Ashley says, voice flat.

Kathryn glares at her. “You need to be on suicide watch and I’m not about to get you locked up in that useless hospital.”

“Woah, _suicide watch?_ Do we do that?” Emma looks to Graham, who looks conflicted.

“Miss Boyd, why did Kathryn bring you here today?”

“She tried jumping off the roof of Granny’s Diner,” Kathryn snaps, “I’m not the only person who saw her.”

Emma stands up slowly, looking to Graham, who purses his lips before nodding, coming over and gently leading Ashley into a cell. Kathryn watches in silence as Ashley is sat down on the cot inside, before glancing at Emma.

“Deputy Swan, I need you to pass a message onto David.”

“Me?”

Kathryn raises her chin. “Yes. I believe he’s currently having an affair with your roommate. Tell him that if he tries to come home for anything but to collect his belongings, then I’ll be filing for a restraining order as well as a divorce.”

 _Holy shit_ , Emma thinks, before she storms out. “Emma,” Graham gets her attention.

“Yeah?”

“Watch Miss Boyd, please,” he orders politely. “I need to make sure Ms Nolan was telling the truth about what she saw, but those that are on suicide watch aren’t allowed to be alone at any time – if she needs the bathroom, the door has to be open.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll stay.”

A few hours later, when the sun is setting and no-one has been at the station since Graham left, Ashley tells her about Sean and their baby – and her deal with Mr Gold.


	14. bishops of clerical distinction ii

Harry doesn’t quite know when he started babysitting literal babies, but apparently he’s a ‘neutral associate’. Alexandra – _Gold,_ Alexandra _Gold_ – is only something like a month old and the adoption paperwork has already gone through. Her birth-mother, a nineteen year old girl by the name of Ashley Boyd – who, in other worlds, is _Cinderella_ – Is living with Kathryn Nolan now, the woman focusing on Ashley and keeping a strict eye on her, rather than bothering with her husband and his mistress.

Harry just really wants the Curse to break, at the moment – then, maybe, no matter how much he dislikes Snow White, she and everyone around her can get their shit together.

Rocking Alexandra gently, Harry paces around the living room, feeding her from a bottle. “You’re quiet. It’s kind of strange to think that you’re my sister, technically. I think, at least, legally. Really weird, this. I wonder how Belle will react, when she gets her memories back – though, to be fair, she’s going to have a lot of new family to contend with. Lots of step-kids and even some grandkids. She’s what, thirty? I don’t know. I’ll have to ask, next time I see Dad.”

It’s not strange to call his father _dad_ , oddly enough. It’s nice, actually. Weird, to get the word out of his mouth, but if the shoe fits…

“Holy Merlin,” Harry blinks, pausing. “That’s a Cinderella reference. Holy Merlin. I didn’t even realise and I’ve been living here for what, five years? Cinderella’s your mum, you know. Kinda weird to think about – I can’t remember her prince’s name. Isn’t he the other Prince Charming?”

Alexandra finishes her bottle in record time and Harry burps her gently, not even blinking at how she throws up over his shoulder, the awaiting towel catching it. Harry helped raise Teddy and Lily – it’s a natural process that doesn’t bother him. She goes to sleep afterwards, too, which is a bonus in Harry’s book, sitting with her warm weight for a while on the sofa before transferring her to a cot.

Harry thinks about having his own kids. He wonders what he’d call them – James for a boy, maybe. Sirius or Remus, too. Ronald, just to make his best mate cry. _Couldn’t call a girl Lily, already got one of those in my life_ , he smiles at the memory of his niece, thinking of her this morning, when he plaited her hair. _Luna. Maybe I’d shock her for once in her life._ Harry chuckles, shaking his head. _She’d know before I even decided properly._

He comes up short at his own thought then, though. _Before **I** even decided properly. Where’s my wife, in this? Or husband?_ Harry wonders at having a spouse, before his ring, twisting on his finger, causes his mood to sour. _No. I’m never getting married, not unless my partner is an immortal, like me._

Regina wanders into the room, leaning over Alexandra briefly with a small smile and a glass of wine in hand, before joining Harry on the sofa.

“It’s strange to think that, in some strange way, she’s our sister,” Regina murmurs.

Harry snorts. “Exactly what I thought. Cute as a button, but pretty young. I asked Dad if we were having siblings any time soon – I think he forgot he was adopting one. What are we going to do if he and Belle actually have kids?”

“Die of embarrassment? I think Baelfire’s already halfway there. He’s only ever vaguely normal around Henry. Whenever I see him otherwise, he’s just…”

“Halfway dying of embarrassment,” Harry finishes with a slight twitch of his lips, stealing his sisters wine, to her annoyance. “You should have got me a glass.”

“Get your own,” she mutters, taking it back after he’d taken a sip. “He’s going to give up the custody case. Emma’s made a deal with him, the _stupid_ girl.”

Harry frowns on his own behalf. “I thought I was going to be some kind of awesome babysitter for like, a few weeks? That’s what Dad said. So I’m only looking after her for a single night?”

“Oh, no,” Regina chuckles. “You forget that her mother tried to kill herself. Don’t worry – you’ll be definitely taking care of Miss Alexandra Gold. Miss Boyd and her partner are staying with Kathryn and obviously, reversing the adoption process takes time.”

“…good. I like kids.” Harry frowns deeper, shifting slightly to look down at his sister. “Would you ever have more?”

“More?” Regina breathes. “I don’t know. Lily was a surprise…”

“To everyone but me,” Harry rests his chin on her head, staring at the grandfather clock in his view. “If you could, would you?”

“Yes.”

“If you get serious with Emma, tell her that,” he advises.

“Duly noted,” Regina says drolly, rolling her eyes as if she’ll never get to that point with Emma. Harry shuts his eyes, wincing at the memory of hearing his sister- “When the Curse breaks, I doubt I’ll be allowed to adopt any new children.”

“Who would stop you?” Harry questions. “You’re the Evil Queen and the Saviour is your girlfriend. She’ll protect you, not to mention me – and Lily. She’s a dragon, Gina. If magic returns, do you really think she isn’t going to transform at the sight of a mob, in defence of her mother?”

Regina sighs. “I dread the day that my four year old has to defend me.”

“I was fifteen months old the first time I faced evil,” Harry says, wrapping his arms around her. She rests her free arm up over his, squeezing briefly. “A storm’s coming. I’ll be with you when it comes.”

“Thank-you, Harry.”

“Any time. I love you.”

“And I you, brother dear.”

* * *

Emma searches for Ruby Lucas and Luna Lovegood in the middle of the night. Ruby quit her job and disappeared, some time after her car being found crashed at the edge of Storybrooke, both women gone.

“ _The Curse is keeping Ruby inside!_ ” Henry exclaimed, when she told him what was going on over the phone, excusing herself from dinner that night at the mansion. “ _Don’t worry, she’s still here, somewhere – you just have to find her. Luna is weird and she’ll be with her, probably, don’t worry, Emma._ ”

In her Bug, looking left and right and barely forwards, Emma swerves past a tall man in a trench coat, causing him to jerk and go flying. His name turns out to be Jefferson and he invites her to his home after she gives him a lift.

He drugs her tea and when she wakes up, she finds Ruby tied up and Luna curled up on the ground at her feet.

“Emma,” Ruby tries to all through the gag, which Emma removes before checking on Luna, gently shaking her. “Don’t, don’t, Emma, he’s done something, she won’t help us-”

Luna blinks awake though, smiling at the sight of them both. “Hello Emma.”

“Luna, what the hell is going on?” Emma hisses, terrified out of her mind. “Ruby says you- says you won’t help us.”

“Hmm…” Luna sits up, kneeling in front of Ruby’s chair, untying her wrist. “I talked to Jefferson. I understand what he’s trying to do. You’ll understand, Emma, but Ruby won’t. Ruby doesn’t remember like Jefferson does.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “He remembers? But- but they aren’t _supposed_ to remember.”

“Jefferson is so sad, Emma,” Luna says, before she finishes untying Ruby’s wrist, moving to her ankle as Ruby hurriedly moves to do her other wrist, Emma still kneeling on the ground beside them, stunned. “His daughter doesn’t remember him and she’s all that matters. Regina saved her father from Wonderland, but left him behind there and made him abandon her.”

“Shit,” Emma mutters, before looking at Ruby and cringing as the waitress looks at Luna in confusion.

“Luna, that guy kidnapped us, please, _please_ just stop with the make-believe stuff for one minute,” Ruby pleads, sobbing as her remaining limbs are freed, Luna wrapping her arms around her. Emma swallows, glancing back at the door in fear.

“Shh,” she tries to quiet Ruby, but her crying is too loud and the door opens to reveal Jefferson, a gun in his hand. Emma’s heart thuds in her chest, before she gets up, stumbling to stand in front of the couple. “Put the gun down.”

Jefferson raises his chin, pointing the weapon at her casually. “Miss Luna, are you fine here?”

“Yes, Jefferson,” Luna says in that serene tone of hers that makes Emma shut her eyes. _No._ “Don’t worry about us. I think you should take Emma to the hat room now and explain.”

“Of course,” Jefferson jerks the gun. “Come on, Emma. I’ve something to show you.”

* * *

Harry gets the memo that Luna’s missing from Henry, of all people. As his nephew chatters on about how Emma can’t attend dinner, he stands still, the bowl of rice in his hands falling to the ground. Lily lets out a scream as it smashes, Regina twisting to him sharply.

“Harry-” she starts, but Harry is already storming through the house, elder wand to hand. He summons his Auror robe from his room and tugs it on before replacing his shiny, lace-up leather shoes with dragonhide boots.

“ _Harry,_ ” Regina hisses, “You’re scaring the children.”

“Luna is my family,” Harry says, before apparating to the edge of Storybrooke, where Ruby’s car had been found. _Point me_ leads him south-east and he apparates in short burst, going by line of sight. Eventually, he finds himself at a manor and he stops behind a tree. “ _Homenum_ _revelio_.”

The spell sweeps over the manor and he feels the presence of four people, two and two in separate rooms. Other spells – spells he hasn’t used since his days in the Academy, in tracking and stealth exams – leave his wand, telling him other details like the lack of warding around the house and how _no-one whatsoever in the manor is a muggle._

“Luna, a witch,” he breathes, ticking them off. “Ruby Lucas, a child of the moon.” He doesn’t know who else might be there, except maybe Emma and he can see her yellow Bug in the driveway. “Emma Swan, a True Love child.”

_Number four is an unknown._

Apparating to the back of the house, he levitates up, using a disillusionment charm as he peers in through the window. Inside, Ruby and Luna are in an embrace, Ruby facing the open door and sobbing. Luna looks out of the window, pale eyes reflecting the moonlight and – as always – she sees him, despite the disillusionment.

Opening the window with a silent _alohomora_ , Harry comes inside, dispelling the charm and coming around into Ruby’s view. However, she’s already turned her head, craning to see him, sniffing and twitching and Harry recoils slightly in his head at the way she acts. _Her wolf is probably near the surface_ , he thinks with a dash of fear he can’t explain, before swallowing and speaking up.

“Miss Lucas,” he greets in a hush, “I need you to stay quiet now. Luna, who is the fourth person?”

“The Mad Hatter, Harry, but don’t harm him,” Luna says, stroking Ruby’s long brown-and-red hair. “He just misses his daughter. Regina made a mistake.”

 _Oh no_ , Harry tenses, before leaving the room, searching out the life-signs of Emma and the Mad Hatter. He comes to a door and he opens it quickly, pinpointing Emma before sending a stunner at the man – but not before a giant _bang_ reverberates through the room.

Emma lets out a pained cry and the Hatter falls to the ground, unconscious. Harry stares at her for a moment, frozen as she puts a hand to her shoulder, blood already flowing strongly from the gunshot wound.

“Fuck,” Harry says simply, before rushing over, pressing his hand up against Emma’s, causing her to let out a pained cry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“What happened?” Ruby and Luna are in the doorway. “Oh my god,” Ruby puts a hand to her mouth as Emma pants.

“Find a phone, call an ambulance-”

“My pocket,” Harry says desperately, hoping his magic hadn’t shorted it out already. Ruby comes over, questioning _which pocket?_ The flip-phone she brings out is dead as a doornail and Harry presses harder to Emma’s wound, feeling Death shadow him, a floating spectre.

“ _She is not mine to reap, Master._ ”

Harry shuts his eyes, knowing what that means.

“ _Death of the Enchanted Forest claims her as theirs. They approach within the hour, if nothing is done._ ”

Luna holds out a landline phone to Ruby, who calls an ambulance and then Graham. By the time they appear, Emma is unconscious but still breathing. Harry is numb and he doesn’t know what to do, his red Auror robes darkened by her blood and his hands covered in it. Jefferson is arrested and Ruby peels him away from Emma so the EMT’s can take over, transferring her to a plastic gurney.

“Breathe, Harry,” Luna advises and Harry sucks in a breath that makes his lungs stop burning, his whole world finally beginning again. He shakes, wand finally tucking away into his holster before he wipes his hands on his robes – it’ll be hell in a handbasket to wash the blood out. “Let’s go to the mansion. Ruby’ll go tell Granny she’s alive and apologise.”

“Why did she run in the first place?”

“August talked to her about Nepal,” Luna replies, as if August Booth isn’t on Harry’s watch-list right now. “Don’t worry about him, Harry. The way he turned his back on the vows he made is taking its toll on him. Ruby’s going to learn things from tonight, too, that she needs when she returns to being Rose Red.”

“Rose Red?” Harry mutters. “I thought she was just called _Red…_ ”

“Her real name is Rose – but don’t tell anyone I told you that, Harry.”

“I won’t.”

* * *

Regina gets the news in person from Harry, who’s being held up by Luna, despite how he’d apparated them into the foyer. Immediately, she goes to her phone, intimately aware that she is responsible for not just her own children, but Alexandra, too – who is sleeping in her bassinet, in the living room. _I need to see Emma,_ Regina shuts her eyes, holding the phone tightly as she tries to figure out who to call to come over. Harry isn’t himself and the day Regina trusts Luna with children is the day that she trusts Snow White with her heart.

The drawer beneath the phone is half open. Inside, a parchment family tree laughs at her and she grits her teeth, because she _knows_ that Baelfire is drinking tonight – it was the reason he declined dinner, after all. Kathryn can’t babysit, either – she’s already doing that, with Ashley.

She calls a number she knows by heart. It rings for a while, picking up to a confused female voice. “ _Hello?_ ”

“Mrs Gold,” Regina greets her stepmother carefully, “Is Rumple there?”

“ _Yes, just a moment._ ” The phone is passed over and Regina crosses her free arm over her chest.

“ _Dearie,_ ” he greets, unusually solemn. “ _What can I do for you?_ ”

“Hello,” Regina swallows, tense. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Emma’s been shot.”

“ _What happened?_ ”

“Jefferson happened,” Regina winces, “I know it’s of my own making, in a way. However, I believe Harry’s in shock and I need to go see her at the hospital. I don’t want to leave him here alone with just Luna Lovegood and three children under the age of eleven.”

“ _Why are you phoning me? Surely, there are more…child-friendly options._ ”

Regina grits her teeth. “I know you and Harry have talked about all this already. I also know you’ve been avoiding me. Now, as your daughter, I’m asking you to look after your grandchildren, Alexandra and Harry while I rush to hospital to make sure Emma isn’t bleeding out.”

There’s a long moment of silence over the line, but Regina hears his breathing quicken before he murmurs a curse. “ _I’ll be over shortly. Will this be an over-night endeavour?_ ”

“The guest bedrooms are all made up if it is – Alexandra is in the living room, though I might move her to the guest bedroom with a crib before you arrive.”

“ _Understood. I’ll be seeing you shortly, Regina._ ”

He hangs up and Regina slams the phone down on the receiver, heart pounding. Returning to the dining room, where Lily sits, face plastered to the table as she sleeps, dead to the world, Regina picks her up, heading upstairs. After tucking her into bed, she checks on Henry, who is on his computer, ignorant to the happenings of the night.

“Henry, I want you to go to bed early, tonight,” she says softly, her son whining a little before conceding. She kisses his forehead and says goodnight, shutting the door before visiting Harry and Luna.

Harry is in his pyjamas, Luna in one of Regina’s nighties. They lie on his bed, talking quietly. When Regina enters, Harry looks over, eyes still wide.

“I’m going to the hospital,” she says, stopping him from speaking as she continues. “You’re staying here. I will call if something happens. Rumple is coming to help watch over the children.”

“Okay,” he says, voice quiet before he looks back to Luna, murmuring quietly. Regina shuts the door, wondering if her brother should see the Cricket.

Heading downstairs once more – saying goodnight to Henry again and tucking him in as she passes his room – Regina finds Rumple in her doorway, having entered without so much as a knock. They stand together awkwardly, before Regina remembers Emma, who might be dying right now and grabs her coat from the rack.

“Alexandra is still in the living room.”

“Aye. You’ll be heading off.”

Regina nods stiffly, looking away from her father sharply as she puts on the nearest pair of heels. Once she’s done, she grabs her car-keys, moving to leave – only for Rumple to grab her wrist.

“Regina,” he starts, before pursing his lips. Regina swallows, before taking her wrist from his grip.

“You trained me in dark magic, manipulated me in my most desperate time and…” she trails off, eyes stinging. “I can’t believe you’re my father and I’ve known for nearly ten years.”

Rumplestiltskin doesn’t react and Regina leaves for the hospital, Emma the only thing on her mind.


	15. bishops of clerical distinction iii

Being shot isn’t nice. Emma winces as pain flares from her shoulder, Regina’s jacket over her shoulders as they exit the hospital.

“I can’t believe you’ve been here the entire time,” she mutters as they get into the mayor’s Mercedes, wincing again as her arm moves and it sets of a jet of pain.

Regina tuts, leaning over her to buckle her in. “Believe it, Emma.”

“What about Henry? And Lily?”

“Looked after,” Regina says crisply, pausing in her movements to stand straight again, after kissing Emma lightly. “You worried me terribly when I learnt you’d been shot.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, really.”

Emma thinks a little on that as Regina shuts the passenger door, going around to the drivers side. She remembers Jefferson’s story, about being asked to do a last job, so Grace would ‘want for nothing’. _What happened afterwards? The Curse?_ Wanting for nothing…Emma knows what it’s like to live without parents, but to have them and lose them and remember that is completely different. _Grace doesn’t want anything right now because she’s happy as Paige with different parents, living a cushy life. Talk about cruel._

“Can we stop off at Granny’s?” Emma questions as Regina drives out of the hospital parking lot. Regina shoots her a look of disbelief. “I’m really craving a burger, right now.”

Regina shakes her head. “No.”

“ _Please_ , Regina,” Emma pouts, but Regina doesn’t look at her, too busy looking at the road like a responsible driver. “I just want a milkshake. If you can make a better chocolate milkshake with vanilla ice-cream, sprinkles and chocolate flakes, then I’ll stop bugging you about it.”

“…I’m not paying,” Regina mutters after a long moment. “You don’t exactly have your wallet, either.”

“It’s in the Bug. Do you know where it is?” Emma questions, worried for her car. “I mean, like, did Jefferson’s house get searched? What happened to him? Where is he?”

“Graham placed him in the asylum, unfortunately,” Regina grimaces. “He’s already spent some time there. I made the mistake of letting him out for good behaviour a few months before I adopted Henry.”

Emma grimaces. “Just because he remembers?”

“To Graham, they aren’t true memories, they’re hallucinations and delusions. Jefferson used to be the best world-hopper of them all. Even Gold employed him.”

“Gold, as in Rumplestiltskin, as in _your dad_ – that’s still weird, by the way.”

“I am _intimately_ aware, Miss Swan.”

Emma abruptly remembers the time they had sex, watching Regina’s lip curl in fascination before she jolts out of her imagination, letting out a pained whine as her elbow catches on the door, pain flooding her.

“Be careful, Emma,” Regina immediately soothes, “It needs time and gentle treatment if you want it to heal.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Emma leans back into the seat, shutting her eyes as they pass Granny’s without stopping. “My milkshake…”

* * *

“It’s nice to have other volunteers,” David smiles.

Harry, trying to figure out where the hell to clip the lead to on the large malamute’s collar, frowns, shaking his head. “Dogs are dogs. I’m not here to help them.” The malamute moves closer to his face all of a sudden and Harry shoots up to his feet, backing away. “I don’t have good experiences with them.”

David reaches over, taking the malamute’s collar and the lead he’d dropped, running his hand under the red leather band until he finds the steel circle, clicking the lead on.

“What inspired you to face your fears?”

 _Luna reminded me that her lover is a child of the moon_ , Harry thinks of their conversation on his bed, remembering how his skin had crawled at her description of Red’s lupine form – a giant dog with white-grey fur and yellow eyes, not at all like the werewolves he knows. He had thought back to his childhood – of Ripper biting at his legs and chasing him up a tree to the Dursleys’ laughter – and as Luna probably knew, had a revelation that he would be terrified, if he ever faced her as a wolf. Even the memories of Padfoot aren’t enough to set him at ease when he imagines it, because Harry remembers his godfather’s animagus form as a skeletal beast. Yes, he stood up to Harry’s waist and snarled like anything, with large fangs and scraping claws, but he’d been emaciated and weak – and it had been Sirius all along. Maybe it was because he’d played with him as a baby. Harry hadn’t been scared of Padfoot, ever.

But Harry was scared of the malamute in front of him.

“He’s very friendly,” David says quietly, kneeling down in front of the dog, scratching under his chin. “Old, good dog. If you can’t deal with walking him, just tell him to sit and he will. Phone me. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing or get someone else to come collect him.”

“Alright,” Harry nods stiffly, before taking the lead from him, letting the malamute lead as David pats him gently in the direction of the door. Walking with him, Harry keeps his eyes on the dog, only briefly looking up to move around a townsperson when they came too close and when he hears a vehicle pass by noisily.

Eventually, he walks the dog into the woods. The trail is peaceful and the dog is content to plod along at a slow pace.

“ _It is strange to think of my master with fears,_ ” Death says casually after appearing beside him.

“Everyone’s scared of something. This is more…traumatising, I guess. I guess it’s some form of healing. Dogs scared me as a kid.”

“ _Still, it’s odd, Master._ ”

Harry shrugs, before recalling Regina’s previous enquiries. “Death, do I have to stay frozen as a teen? Could I age up a few years, or unfreeze myself?”

“ _I am Death and Death is infinite – it is the end of Time and Time is progressive._ ”

“Is that a roundabout ‘no’ or are you just being finicky?” Harry questions, wondering if Time has a Master, too.

“ _If you wish to turn forwards the clock for your meat-suit, Master, I can oblige, but the consequences would be severe. You would have to be revived._ ”

Harry winces.

“ _Would you like to go through with such an endeavour, my Master?_ ”

Harry swallows, gripping the malamute’s lead tighter as the dog tugs, knuckles turning white. “May I look my actual age, please? Thirty-one and a couple of months?” There’s a loaded silence, before Harry finds himself on the ground, the malamute whining, licking his hand. His head throbs and his tongue is dry.

“ _Your welcome._ ”

“Thanks,” Harry rasps, before Death disappears. Feeling wetness seep through his jacket, he sits up, groaning as a residual muscle pain in his limbs and abdomen shriek, before fading. He feels… _more_ and his clothes don’t fit as well as they should. Taking out the elder wand, he mutters some correction charms to refit his wardrobe before standing. The malamute brushes up against his leg and Harry leans down to tentatively pat his head. “Don’t worry about me, doggy, I’m fine.”

Harry rubs his eyes – once again, so very relieved that he’d had his eyes corrected, all those years ago – before realising his hair is much longer. Tugging at it, he grimaces at how long it’s grown, his hairband over two feet away from where it had been before, at the base of his head… _I have a beard._ Harry’s eyes widen, before he brushes both hands over it, feeling the long hairs reaching down and seeing dark brown strands curling on his chest, a heavy weight.

“How am I supposed to explain this?” he questions suddenly, before taking out his speaker-mirror and enlarging it, looking at his reflection. “What’s the damn haircut spell, again?” He tries to remember, but it stubbornly stays far from his grasp and annoyed, he give up, using a quick _diffindo_ to lop off his long trail of hair and then his beard, too, giving himself as close a shave as possible. He still looks like a vagabond by the end of it and actual chest hair is pressing up against the buttons and collar of his shirt, but it works well enough – and he can see the age in his face, now, how the sides of his eyes wrinkle and how his skin has darkened slightly, a weatherbeaten tan mellowing his overall appearance.

 _Really though, how am I supposed to explain this? Storybrooke isn’t frozen anymore, they won’t just brush it off, they’ll notice…_ Harry blinks, then shuts his eyes, hitting his forehead with the flat of his palm before casting a notice-me-not, shrinking and returning the speaker-mirror to his pocket. “Come on,” he says to the dog, jogging along the path back to the animal shelter.

 _So much for being seventeen forever,_ he thinks, before a figure steps out onto the path in front of him – August Booth. Immediately, he tenses, coming to a halt.

“Mr Booth. I wouldn’t have thought you a hiker,” Harry starts stiffly.

August tilts his head slightly. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a magical being, but with that show just now and _inside_ the borders of Storybrooke, no less…what are you?”

“What…” Harry jerks back, “You _saw_ me age?”

“Age? It looked more like torture. I think you actually died at one point,” August looks vaguely disturbed. “How are you using magic here?”

“That’s- that’s none of your business,” Harry says frankly, breathing in deeply. “If you’ll excuse me-”

He tries to walk past with the malamute, but August brings a hand up to his chest to stop him. “No. I want you to explain it to me, now.”

“Demanding things gets you nowhere,” Harry shoves his hand off, pushing past him only to be hit in the back of the knee with something hard. Staggering, Harry drops to the ground, lead leaving his grip as the malamute barks sharply, standing beside him. The presence of it beside him though, triggers Harry to jerk away – just in time to avoid a kick from the auburn-haired man.

“What the fuck is going on?” Harry demands, rolling further away before scrambling to his feet. “I’ll arrest you for that.”

“For what?” August advances, so _blasé_ that Harry feels slightly sick. “Under what power?”

“I’ll arrest you for assault,” Harry replies, refusing to say that he’s an Auror. “I’m a trained member of the British police force and I still have my licenses.”

August raises an eyebrow. “Really? Interesting. Unfortunately for you though, I have the upper hand.”

“What upper hand?” Harry scoffs, before August takes a gun out from his jeans, aiming at Harry’s legs and firing – only for Harry’s quick _protego maxima_ to deflect the spray, away from them both and the dog. “That’s not an upper hand against me.”

“I saw your wand earlier,” August peers at it. “Looks like elder wood. Very old elder wood…it’s carved beautifully.”

“Wait till you see my holly one,” Harry replies, losing all pretence of holding to the Statue of Secrecy. Holding the elder wand tightly, he flicks it, wordlessly summoning Prongs, who gallops into being. “Go to Regina. Tell her August Booth just attacked me. He’s got a gun. I’m uninjured so far. I’m in the forest north of the animal sanctuary and I have a dog with me.” Prongs quickly rushes off into the woods, disappearing from sight. “Why are you attacking me?”

“You’re too powerful and the Curse isn’t even broken yet,” August shakes his head. “You claim the Evil Queen as your sibling and therefore are on the wrong side of the war.”

“There _is_ no war,” Harry snaps.

“There will be, once Emma breaks the Curse.”

Harry glares at the man. “How do you even know about the Curse? Baelfire says you’re from the Enchanted Forest, but Emma was the only one to escape Regina’s Curse.”

“Untrue, unfortunately,” August shakes his head, before shooting at him again, the shield deflecting it off into the woods. “The wardrobe that brought Emma to this world could send two.”

Harry’s eyes widen. “ _What?_ ” He thinks hurriedly, trying to imagine any other child from Henry’s Book that could be August, coming up short. “Who _are_ you?”

“I’ll make you a deal,” August smiles thinly. “If you agree to heal my leg, protect me and help me break the Curse, I’ll tell you who I am, what happened and whatever else you like.”

“Fat chance,” Harry snaps, before August leans on one leg, reaching down to tug up his jeans. Without permission, Harry’s eyes trail down to the skin shown. What he sees, he mistakes for another layer of clothing at first, before realising. “You’re turning into wood. You…you’re Pinocchio.” _What Luna said, she said something about him at Jefferson’s…_

Pinocchio’s smile widens. “Indeed. That was a show of good faith.”

“Why are you turning into wood?” Harry presses, glancing at the malamute as it walks closer to him.

“I broke a vow.”

Now, that, Harry can understand. _Luna said it was taking a toll._ Pursing his lips, Harry motions with his free hand to his leg. “What kind of broken vow reverses fairy magic?”

“I swore my oath to the same fairy that turned me into a boy,” Pinocchio shrugs. “I’ve tried to repent, to make up for what I’ve done, but it’s too late.”

“You deserve your punishment,” Harry replies, drawing his shoulders up as he hears shouts, the familiar voices of Regina and Emma calling for him. “I won’t help you.”

Pinocchio doesn’t stop smiling though, twirling the gun on one finger before shaking his head. “You don’t have to. I’ve already figured out another way to help break the Curse.” Harry’s brows knit together as he tries to think how Pinocchio could ‘help’, but as Emma and Regina come into view, Emma using her left hand to wield her own police-duty gun, Pinocchio turns his arm to aim elsewhere.

“No!” Harry shouts, before summoning August’s gun – but it’s like Jefferson again and Harry is paralysed as the gun goes off before he finishes his incantation. Emma stops abruptly, letting out a cry of pain as she drops to her knees and then onto her back.

“Emma!” Regina stops, coming to Emma’s aid. “Emma, breathe, breathe-”

“Fuck, this hurts, holy- _fuck!_ ” Emma’s breath rattles and Pinocchio runs away, Harry standing there, frozen, watching Regina try to press against the gushing wound that is letting out so much more blood than the previous bullet-wound Emma suffered. “I’m going to die, oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“You aren’t going to die,” Regina reaches for her pocket, taking out her phone and dialling nine-one-one. “You’re not going to die, Miss Swan, not on my watch- this is Regina Mills, I need an ambulance. We’re in the forest, north of the animal shelter, just a minute down the path. Deputy Swan has been shot again.”

As Regina talks to the service operator, Harry drops into a crouch, watching Emma bleed with unblinking eyes. The malamute is barking rapidly and loudly, the sounds echoing through the forest. Harry just keeps staring. _Again, it’s happening again. It’s my fault._ If he hadn’t realised what was going on sooner, if- if he had just questioned August- _Pinocchio_ earlier in time, done something _before_ he could meddle…

Emma coughs, blood leaking from the side of her mouth. “Regina,” she says, gargling slightly. “Regina, I’m not- not…” Regina drops the phone finally, bringing her bare, bloody hand to cup Emma’s face as it leaves her chest, the one previously holding her phone joining it.

“No, Miss Swan, you aren’t going to die! You will not! I won’t allow it!”

Harry lets out a sharp bark of laughter at that, echoed by the dying blonde woman.

“Allow it,” Emma weakly grips Regina’s arms, hands shaking. “It hurts, Gina.”

Regina shakes her head decisively, “ _No._ You are not leaving. Yes, it hurts, but if it hurts it means you’re alive. Don’t you dare die, Emma, don’t you _dare_. What will I tell Henry?”

“That I was stupid and got shot twice in the same week,” Emma rasps, Harry getting up from his crouch and meandering over to them both. Standing over his sister as Emma dies, Harry feels a shift in the air and looks up to see Death standing over them – even though Death stands at Harry’s shoulder. The other Death doesn’t pay him any attention, but Harry is confused at their posture and their expression, how they seem so-

 _Annoyed_ , Harry hits the nail with the hammer, eyes widening as he looks to his own Death, who likewise seems to have had a similar epiphany.

“ _She’s not going to die permanently,_ ” Death says, sounding irked. “ _Oh, I hope this doesn’t become a regular thing. I’ve already had to resurrect you, Master, over a dozen times already._ ”

“ _Quiet yourself, sister,_ ” the other Death mutters. “ _One was always going to be returned to life upon the Breaking of the Dark Curse. Your so-called master will be pleased to know that Henry Daniel Mills is not the one in Emma Swan’s place._ ”

Abruptly, Harry feels a sense of horror. “Henry?”

“No!” Regina gasps at his words, looking up. “No, he can’t be here to see Emma like this-”

“No, no, he’s not here,” Harry interrupts, putting his hand on her shoulder. On the forest floor, Emma looks up at him, brow furrowing slightly as she blinks slowly. Her mouth opens to speak, but her gaze switches back to Regina.

“I’m…dying. They’re not…going to get…here, Gina. Say…goodbye, please.”

“You aren’t dying!” Regina shouts, hands squeezing Emma’s clasped face tightly. Harry swallows, looking to the two Deaths, Emma’s spectre sighing silently. “You aren’t going to die!”

Harry sees Emma’s soul slip and slide in her body, then, a blue imprint of her in her leather jacket, arm still held up in a sling. Physically, her eyes still and Regina starts to cry, Harry standing uncomfortably, knowing that something is going to bring her back, but not what. The blue imprint slips, a hand rising up to Regina’s cheek, Emma’s chest deflating and not rising again.

“No. No, no-” Regina whispers, frozen all of a sudden. “You’re not allowed to leave.”

The blue imprint wavers, then and Harry has to blink, deliberately peering closer at the soul that is jumbled and more than just _Emma Swan_. He sees a man, who smiles sadly and brushes a kiss to Regina’s forehead, before becoming Emma again, who moves back – right back into the space of her body – as Regina moves forwards, lips pressing against Emma’s cooling pink ones.

Frankly, Harry, already in shock at the fact that Emma Swan is a reincarnated _Daniel fucking Colter_ , doesn’t expect the _magical explosion_.

Yellow-green light flares in a circle, bursting out in all directions. When it hits Harry, he feels the presence of the wards dissipate, leaving him free to feel his magic, which floods out of him, no longer confined to his body. On the ground, Emma’s soul reattaches to her body and her wounds – all her wounds, shoulder included as well as the bruise visible on her temple – heal. She gasps back to life, before Regina jerks back, eyes wide.

“Emma?”

“Regina? What did you do?” Emma stares at her and of course, that’s when the EMT’s finally arrive, shouting to locate them. The malamute stops barking, sitting at Emma’s side. The blonde reaches to stroke it briefly, when Regina loses her focus, but very quickly, Harry’s sister regains that attention as Emma swoops up, kissing her soundly.

Harry feels happy for his sister, a smile appearing on his face as both Deaths disappear, disgruntled and broody at the resurrection of a soul.

Which is when the EMTs reveal they aren’t actually EMTs.

“Arrest her!”

“Kill the Evil Queen!”

Emma and Regina break apart, Emma eloquently expressing all three of their reactions as she swears, “ _Fuck!_ ”

“Don’t throw up,” Harry immediately warns, not giving either woman a chance to reply as he comes forwards, taking their shoulders with both of his hands, wandlessly apparating to the foyer of the mansion. A small scream rings out, Harry pinpointing Henry on the stairs, holding a cup of apple juice.

“Did you _all_ just teleport?” Henry asks, wide-eyed, before his face twists in horror. “Why is Emma covered in blood?”

Harry wordlessly cleans Emma’s shirt and jacket, causing the woman to yelp before she gets to her feet, closely followed by Regina – who he also cleans, mumbling an apology as she hisses at the skin-scrubbing _scourgify_.

“Emma’s fine,” Harry says to Henry. “She wasn’t okay and things happened, but your mums broke the Dark Curse with-” he glances at Regina “True Love?”

“You’re _in love?_ ”

Henry’s apple juice falls to the ground.


	16. check i

“…shouldn’t you be in school?” Harry mutters afterwards, later, when everything has been talked over and finished. Henry shushes him, frowning as Lily comes into the living room wearing only her underwear. “Lils, what happened to your clothes?”

Lily comes over to him, grumbling. “Too hot.” Harry reaches to pick her up but immediately hisses, hands whipping away from her skin.

“Damn. Regina!” he calls for his sister, “We have a problem!”

Regina shouts from the kitchen. “What is it?”

“Lily’s a dragon!” Harry replies. “She’s just come downstairs and- ow! Shit, ow, ow, let go Lily.” He pleads as Lily takes his hand tightly.

“But you’re _cold_ ,” she whines, eyes half-closed. “I’m too hot, Uncle Harry. I’m on _fire._ ”

“Yeah, literally!” Harry somehow extricates his burning hand from hers, just as Regina returns from the kitchen, Emma trailing along behind her in a new shirt.

“The other one had a hole in it,” she defends herself at his odd look, but Harry pinpoints a hickey half-hidden by her collar, as well and rolls his eyes.

“Lily,” Regina starts, “Don’t touch anyone right now, okay, sweetheart. You’re right, you are on fire and fire hurts people, remember?”

“Then put me out,” his niece starts to cry and Harry feels bad for her. Twisting his wand about, he conjures a stream of water, which turns to steam upon hitting her skin – but Lily seems to appreciate it, letting out a big breath.

“Back garden hose?” Harry questions.

“On it,” Emma volunteers, jogging out of the room, Henry quickly following her. Harry keeps up the small stream of water as Regina convinces Lily to come outside. Once there, Lily starts to regain some normality, her behaviour evening out.

“Can we go swimming?” Lily questions, jumping up and down under the stream of water, giggling. “Please, mama?”

“Maybe later, my little dragon,” Regina replies evenly, before Lily looks point to Henry.

“Emma! Emma, soak Henry!”

Harry’s lip twitches as Emma obliges, Henry spluttering as his face is hit with a cold geyser of water. Glancing at Regina, Harry motions for her, his sister following him inside.

“I’m going to see Luna. I need to know she’s okay, if she’s got her magic back.”

Regina flicks her wrist, fingers curling, but nothing appears. “Well, I haven’t.”

“Our magic is different, you know that – it’s just supressed here,” Harry shakes his head. “Ruby and Luna are looking after Alexandra as well. I need to pick her up, or at least make sure that Cinderella and Dad don’t try anything, now they’re both aware.”

“You left Alexandra with _Luna?_ ” Regina says in a slightly horrified voice, making Harry frown.

“Hey, she’s not…mystical enough that she’s incompetent. Give her some credit, Gina.”

Regina bristles. “I don’t trust her with responsibility. The one time I let her babysit Henry, she ran off halfway through to search for fairy dust and left him on his own until I came home.”

Harry fidgets guiltily, knowing that it had happened while he was out, visiting Andy with Teddy. Saying a quick goodbye, he takes the easy way out, apparating to a sheltered spot near Granny’s, quickly making his way to the Diner, where he’d left Alexandra with Ruby and Luna.

Going inside, Harry isn’t really surprised to see some wary looks, but he is surprised to find that Granny’s is being used as some kind of base for Snow White and her people.

“Uh…hello,” he greets awkwardly, searching for Luna and Alexandra, finding Alexandra in the arms of her biological parents and Luna with her wrists tied, sitting at a table in the middle of the Diner. Ruby stands in between her and David Nolan, her fists clenched. “Let her go,” Harry orders sharply.

Mary-Margaret Blanchard – or rather, Snow White – clears her throat. “Excuse me if we don’t want allies of the Evil Queen running around.”

“Seriously?” Harry questions, before shaking his head, looking to Luna. “Do you have your…” he mimes waving a wand, Luna shaking her head gently. “Where is it?”

“Oh, it’s hiding under the bar,” Luna says in a serene voice, Harry immediately moving to go find it, when Leroy – Grumpy – blocks him.

“Slow down there, sister, what are you searching for?”

“My wand,” Luna replies.

“Your wand?” Snow White’s eyes widen. “You’re a fairy?”

“She’s a witch,” Harry snaps, glaring at Grumpy. “The kind of witch that is nothing without her wand.”

“And what about you?” Grumpy sneers.

“I am the son of Rumplestiltskin. A wand is the last thing I _need_ to use magic,” Harry says in a threatening voice, getting a few gasps of shock before he deliberately causes the nearest glass to explode. “Now let me past, before I turn you into a toad.”

“I _dare_ you,” Grumpy pushes him back, Harry following through on his threat without even a flick of his wrist. Picking the toad up, he hands it to the nearest dwarf, who cradles his toad brother like he’s something precious. Going behind the counter, Harry searches for Luna’s wand, quickly finding it behind a pile of napkins.

“Who are you?” Prince Charming demands, nothing like the stuttering David Nolan. Harry flicks Luna’s wand, undoing her binds before handing her wand over the counter to Ruby – to Red, who stares at it for a long few seconds before passing it to Luna. Upon its return to her possession, blue and silver sparks come out the end and a large smile forms on Luna’s face.

“Are you going to go back to using your holly wand, now, Harry?” his friend questions, before Snow White hisses.

“Red, why did you do that? I know she was your partner during the Curse, but-”

“But nothing,” Red interrupts. “Luna wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“I won’t,” Luna agrees, nodding before standing, reaching to take Red’s hand. Knowing then that the two of them could apparate out at any time, safe, Harry looks over at Ashley and Sean – Cinderella and Prince Thomas.

“You made a deal with my father and custody of your daughter hasn’t yet been resolved,” he starts, before Thomas stands up in front of them expression livid.

“She’s my daughter!”

“Actually, she’s not,” Harry clenches his jaw, “Your daughter was adopted and reversing paperwork for that takes time – not that Dad’s trying hard. We knew this would happen when the Curse broke.”

“Then what do you want?” Cinderella questions, holding her close. Harry notices Kathryn sitting in their booth, then, watching the proceedings in silence. “We won’t give her over to you.”

Harry makes a decision as he meets Kathryn’s eyes, the woman nodding slightly. He looks back to Cinderella and Thomas, speaking with vitriol – but not taking Alexandra from them, against using magic to summon or otherwise levitating a young child. _Hermione would never forgive me or forget if I used the wrong spell, in any case_.

“You bartered your baby away like she was an item of clothing. My dad is doing you a courtesy by turning her back over to you, but you still owe Emma. She _sold_ herself for that girl in your hands,” he reminds them, before shaking his head, remembering Emma’s story. “You’re worse than Snow White and Prince Charming when it comes to parenting.”

“What? What are you on about? Because of _Regina_ , the woman you’re so proud to call your _sister,_ ” Prince Charming comes to his wife’s defence, “we never got to raise Emma. We don’t even know where she is right now, because the Evil Queen took her away and- and obviously _seduced_ her-”

“More like Emma seduced Regina, actually,” Harry interrupts, briefly clenching his fists before sighing, rubbing the bridge of his nose, feeling for all as if he’d never rid himself of his glasses, a headache formin. “Emma’s fine. I’m not telling you where she is though, for her own safety. You’d probably lock her in a tower and claim she’s under some spell. I’ll have you know that the two of them, Regina and Emma, broke the Dark Curse with True Love’s kiss.”

Snow gasps, “That- that can’t be true! Regina loves Daniel!”

“Daniel is also dead, very dead,” Harry points out, ignoring how he’s apparently been reborn as Emma Swan. _Unless Emma starts remembering, I’m never telling her or Regina about that_ , he swears an oath to himself, feeling a tingling of magic in his hands due to the lack of wand, Luna glancing at him curiously. “We should have a town meeting. There’s a lot of…”

“Hate?” Red suggests quietly.

“I don’t know, I was thinking more…anger. You all spent twenty-eight years apart from your loved ones, or together with them, I don’t know,” Harry shrugs slightly. “But you were brought here, to electricity and plumbing. There’s some stuff to be grateful, despite the bad intentions. Separated families can be reunited properly, now, probably with some additions, but yeah, plumbing. I know…” Harry’s mouth goes slightly dry, because he’s got the attention of the entire room, he realises. It’s something he’s not had since the Battle of Hogwarts and organising the DA and the Order of the Phoenix. “I found my family, here and I don’t want to let them go. I’ve got a sister, a brother, a niece and nephew, an Emma and a Ruby – Red, sorry.” He glances at the woman who Luna loves.

“It’s fine,” she smiles tentatively, waving a little. “You were a regular fixture these past couple of years, you and Luna.”

“Yeah,” Harry smiles back, briefly, before Snow speaks.

“I think a town meeting is a good idea. Then, Regina can apologise and send us home, before we serve rightful justice for her crimes.”

“There’s no magic for you here,” Harry tears his eyes away from Red, “and Regina wouldn’t know how to pack up the town. She wasn’t the one to create the Dark Curse.”

“How can you say that?” Prince Charming questions, pointing at the toad-dwarf. “You just turned Leroy into a frog!”

“Toad and that’s different,” Harry shakes his head, reversing the transfiguration, glancing only a little at the spluttering, distraught dwarf. “This realm has its own way to use magic. When you decide when to have the town meeting, spread the word. We’ll hear.” Looking to Luna, he nods before apparating back to the mansion. A few seconds later, Luna and Red appear with a **_crack_** that Harry had forgot happened when you apparated, used to a near silent sound – Luna hadn’t been trained how to appear quietly, though, not like Harry had.

Regina’s heels click on marble. “Where’s Alexandra?” she questions, worry audible.

“With Cinderella and Prince Thomas,” Luna answers. “There’s someone upstairs.”

“What?” Harry casts a quick _homenum revelio_ , horrified to find that Luna is right. _Wards,_ he thinks, _now that the Curse is gone, I’m making wards to go around the house._ Apparating to his bedroom, Harry is quick to scour the first floor, finding the perpetrator in the guest bathroom, locked inside. Briefly, he struggles with the urge to wait and the urge to slam open the door, but then the lock clicks and the door opens.

Baelfire blinks at the wand to his face, raising a single hand, the other holding a towel around his waist.

“What did I do?”

Harry breathes in deeply, before asking a security question. “How is Zelena related to Peter Pan?”

Baelfire makes a face, “She’s…not? What’s going on, Harry?”

Harry lowers his wand. “The Curse is broken.”

“Oh,” Baelfire’s blinks in surprise. “Is that good or bad?”

“Emma died and Regina used True Love’s kiss to bring her back to life, breaking the Curse. Lily’s inner dragon isn’t supressed anymore and if you touch her, you get burned, see?” Harry flicks his red hands, which still sting a bit.

“Good thing, bad consequences. Has Papa been over to see us, yet?”

“Not yet,” Harry shakes his head.

“Right,” Baelfire clears his throat. “Remind Henry to give Regina the potion.”

“Right,” Harry repeats, face screwing up. “Potion?”

“Ask Henry. I’m going to get dressed.”

* * *

_“Who’s that?”_

_“The girl whose magic saved you from yourself.”_

_“I’m Zelena, what’s your name?”_

_“Regina.”_

She puts her hands to her head, scrunching up her face as more memories flash by her.

_“No-one gets in my way and lives to tell of it. You’ll be sorry for this, Regina.”_

_“Not as sorry as you’ll be, when your face is on fire – fireball!”_

Regina doesn’t understand, but she does. The potion Henry had given her had given her back memories of time with Zelena, her sister. She recalls her opening the wand-box, sealed with blood magic and rushing to confirm whether they were related or not.

_“I promise, I’ll be good!”_

_“Take her away.”_

Her chest pangs with long-forgotten heartache. Sitting down heavily, Regina looks at her hands, clenching her fists.

“So?” Henry prods. “Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” Regina murmurs, “But she won’t.”

“We can help her,” Henry says, holding up a second vial. “See? We’ve got more potion to make her remember-”

“We don’t even know where she is right now, Henry,” Regina interrupts. “I doubt she knows I exist, either.”

“Actually,” Baelfire clears his throat, stepping into the living room a shriek from Lily echoes through the house. “Henry and I know. Why aren’t we trying to figure out why Lily’s screaming, by the way?”

“She’s with Emma, outside, getting hosed down – her dragonfire is burning hot and I don’t think she can control it,” Regina frowns. “How do you and Henry know where Zelena is?”

“I’d like to know, too,” Harry backs her up, frowning. “And who made that potion?”

“Grandpa,” Henry replies, causing Regina to recoil. “But it wasn’t him who told us that Zelena’s in Oz.”

“Like _The Wizard of Oz,_ Oz?” Harry questions.

“Yep,” Baelfire nods, “The guy told us you’d know how to get there, Harry.”

Regina looks to Harry at that, their eyes widening in sync. “The Door?”

“The Door,” Harry mutters in quiet wonder. “I suppose I could bring her here, but what if I can’t get back?”

“You’ll get back,” Henry says, voice full of determination. He holds out the vial to his uncle, Harry taking it gently. “Bring a spare speaker-mirror, in case you get separated from her.”

“But I can’t go right now,” Harry argues, “I’ve got to stay. What if the town riots? What if they try to hurt Regina?”

“I can look after myself,” Regina puts in stiffly. “I’m not completely defenceless.”

“Without magic-” Harry starts, before Luna puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll look after them, don’t worry, Harry. Go and talk to your sister.”

Regina’s eyes narrow at Luna’s words. _Talk?_ She thinks, suspicious. Luna has always been strange – turning up exactly when they need her and finding fairy dust five years before the Curse breaks. _Why didn’t she say ‘retrieve’ or something else relevant? Why ‘talk’?_ Regina glances at Baelfire, reminded of how he’d only begun staying in Storybrooke recently, because of Emma and Henry. Swallowing uncomfortably, Regina can’t help but wonder if Zelena would even want to be associated with the Evil Queen, let alone a child – _children_ – of the Dark One. They have no idea what kind of person she is, if her magic has given her power or caused her to be ostracised. Regina knows the bare minimum about Oz.

“Regina?” Harry attracts her attention. “Are you fine here? I’m going to put wards up around the house, anyway, but are you okay with me going? For real?”

Blinking a little and wondering what wards he’ll put up, Regina nods. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. You go – but tell Andy before you go realm hopping, in case something happens and say goodbye to Lily and Teddy.”

“Alright, sure,” he says, before giving Henry a short hug, ruffling his hair. Regina comes over to kiss his cheek affectionately, welcoming the hug he gives her afterwards, before he makes the rounds, getting a clap on the back from Baelfire before he slips out of the living room to the backdoor, to say goodbye to Lily and probably update Emma.

As he leaves, Ruby – Red, clears her throat. “Regina…”

“Yes?” Regina steels herself, waiting and welcoming the hate to come.

But Red surprises her. “Thank-you.”

“Thank-you?” Regina raises her eyebrows in disbelief. “What are you thanking me for?”

“A better life. In the Enchanted Forest, I know we were fighting you and a lot of bad stuff was going on, but…I mean, you made me forget that I was a monster, for over half my life now.” Red explains, squeezing Luna’s hand tightly, looking to her gently. “Luna never would have found me, either.”

“I would have, eventually,” Luna smiles sadly, leaning over to kiss her. Regina watches Red kiss her back, cradling her face and barely having to lean down at all, because of what a pair of legs Luna herself is, like her partner. Regina eyes them both for a few moments, before seeing Henry’s grimace and smirking.

“Why the face, Henry? It’s just _love_ – I thought you endorsed it.”

“Yeah and it’s gross. I’d rather have pizza. Pizza doesn’t kiss you,” Henry is still grimacing as Red and Luna part, the former letting out a short bark of laughter.

“You might be kissing someone, in the future, Henry.”

“No, I won’t, never ever,” Henry shakes his head vigorously. “It’s bad enough with you guys – I’m going to have to deal with Mom and Emma kissing, too, every day for the rest of my life!”

Regina bites her lip at that comment, hearing Lily shout all of a sudden, complaining about Harry’s leaving. _Emma and I share True Love_ , she thinks with trepidation, _but what does that mean for us? Is she going to move in? Are we going to co-parent Henry? Lily?_ They need to talk, desperately, about all the important, long-term issues that don’t include the effects of magic, Curse-breaking kisses and their respective statuses as the Evil Queen and Saviour – especially the latter, seeing as Emma knows and doesn’t seem to give a damn.

Just then, the doorbell rings. Regina goes to answer it, the group trailing behind her as she answers the door. Upon seeing who it is, Regina straightens sharply.

“Maleficent,” she breathes.

The dragon woman gives a thin smile, one that would seem far more menacing if she weren’t wearing Storybrooke-appropriate clothes. Regina – personally – has to stop herself from being completely obvious as she looks the sorceress up and down, taking in the fitted black slacks, dark purple button-down and tucked-in tie. Her hair is up in a tight bun and briefly, Regina wonders if this is what Maleficent would have looked like every day as Mal Smith, her Storybrooke counterpart.

“I smell one of my kin here, Regina, only a hatchling.” Maleficent says, stepping forwards into her space. Regina welcomes it for a few seconds, a low heat stirring in her abdomen before she pushes it down, stepping backwards into her house. “She’s putting out something of a smell.”

“She _is_ a hatchling,” Regina doesn’t quite know how to explain to Maleficent that her daughter wilfully deaged herself and instead invites her in. “I need to talk to you, before you see her.”

“Her?” Maleficent eyes the other people in the hallway, gaze sitting briefly on Red before sticking to Luna. “Who might you be, precious? Your magic smells… _serene_.”

Luna bobs a curtsey, “Lady Maleficent, it’s an honour to meet such an esteemed creature as yourself. Would you be willing to talk about your experience as a dragon for my father’s magazine?”

“Maybe,” Maleficent says, before dismissing her, looking back to Regina. “Won’t you introduce me to your friends, Your Majesty?”

Regina coughs lightly. “Maleficent, meet my son, Henry Mills, Luna Lovegood, Ruby Lucas, who is otherwise known as Red…and my brother, Baelfire.”

“Brother?” Maleficent’s eyes widen. “Well, there have certainly been new developments to your life – and a son!” Maleficent peers at Henry, who stands up straight, fiddling with his shirt-cuff. “I hope you are braver than your namesake, young man. Prince Henry hadn’t much spine.”

“Hey,” Regina snaps, glaring. Maleficent sends her an amused look, before ruffling Henry’s hair.

“The little prince has time still to prove himself. Now, what do you want to tell me? The hatchling positively stinks. She’d have ogres from miles around rushing to eat her, if we were in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Her name is Lily. She opted to be deaged, to relive her life in my care,” Regina doesn’t stop with the biting tone, fear and paranoia rising up inside of her. _What if Maleficent takes her away?_

Rightly so, Maleficent stiffens, tensing. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Regina purses her lips, before crossing her arms. “She was sent to this realm as a baby. Do you know anything about it?”

“Snow White,” Maleficent states, slightly startled. “The princess and her husband stole from me, were tricked into something that could have killed my baby.” Her eyes lock onto Regina’s and after a moment of thinking of consequences, of right and wrong and denying a mother her child – Regina offers her hand. Maleficent takes it, grip vice-like and Regina leads her out back, where Emma is aiming the hose into the air, Lily dragging a drenched Harry by his jumper around the slowly muddying garden, his wand lazily flicking before stowing away as a pulse of rippling white makes a dome over their home.

“Lily!” Regina calls, Maleficent’s grip murder on her hand. Lily looks over, eyes wild and joyful.

“Mama! Come and play!”

“No, darling,” Regina shakes her head, taking her hand from Maleficent’s. “Lily, I need you to meet someone.”

Emma lets out a quiet swear, shutting off the water. “So this is the dragon-lady?”

“Dragon?” Lily questions quickly, hearing her. “I’m a dragon!” She runs over to Maleficent, reaching up wet hands to grip her trousers. “Are you a real dragon? Can you show me how to fly? Why am I so warm right now?”

Maleficent looks at Regina’s daughter with a fragile happiness, eyes becoming glassy as she whispers. “Yes, yes, I’m a real dragon, just like you. Do you know who I am?”

Lily scrunches up her face, frowning before looking to Regina. “Mama?”

“Lily,” Regina crouches down in front of her daughter. “Do you remember what I’ve told you about your other mother, Maleficent?”

“Uh huh. Is this her?” Lily looks up again. “Are you my other mommy?”

“I am, hatchling,” Maleficent smiles widely, wiping a tear from her cheek before crouching down, hugging her. Lily – ever the tactile child – hugs her back, giggling into her shoulder.

“Hello!”

“Hello.”

Regina swallows, looking away from the display, desperately hoping Maleficent doesn’t take her. Harry catches her eyes and he poses a silent question: _should I stay?_

 _Go,_ she jerks, wanting him to find Zelena. Mayhaps, if her old mentor does steal their daughter away, she can have a new piece of family to treasure. Regina nods to her brother.

Harry nods back.

Then, with a _crack_ , he’s gone _._


	17. interlude i

“Can we talk?”

They sit together in their shared kitchen in their shared house. His leg leans out on an angle and her knees are drawn together as she fiddles with the rose-gold wedding ring and the matching blue sapphire engagement ring on her fourth finger. Rumple can remember buying them both – picking out the engagement ring and asking her to marry him in a hush, in his bedroom while she was still getting dressed. _Marry me, Belle_. They signed the papers two days later, stone-faced, Belle’s father nowhere in sight.

It never really happened.

Rumple can remember a bit more than twenty-six years of being alone, of empty beds and microwave dinners because Mr Gold couldn’t cook. Belle has only been his wife for a year and a half, at most and the rest of the time, she was apparently stuck in the asylum. Regina only gave up her leverage because of fear.

“I love you, Rumple,” Belle starts, stating it as if it’s _that simple_.

“And I love you,” he replies honestly.

Belle gives him a small smile, before it disappears. “Regina made me your wife.”

“Aye, that she did. Do you wish for a divorce?”

“No!” Belle exclaims, before blushing. “I mean, I…it’s a bit sudden and neither of us got any choice in it. I saw my father through the window, with the other townspeople. He probably thinks I’m in need of rescuing. Our Cursed memories give my father and I a relationship that, in all honesty, I believe will repeat itself.”

“Oh?” Rumple raises an eyebrow. “You plan on staying, then?”

Belle rolls her eyes. “Of course I’m staying. I’m bound to you forever, in more ways than one now and I don’t mind that.”

“So…if I were to ask if you wanted to renew our vows, or make them, as the case is with our elopement in this world, what would you say?”

Belle leans over, kissing him before pulling away, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “I’d say that I’d love to, but in the future. The Curse has only just broken and things are _bound_ to get heated. We also need to talk about other matters.”

Rumple grimaces slightly, Belle once more sitting down. “I swear, Belle, I had no idea that I had any more children than Baelfire.”

“I believe you. It’s just difficult to wrap my head around and I think, if we did want to get married properly, as ourselves, it should be after you’ve gone over things with them all and…well, decided how you’re going to include me in that, I suppose.”

“Harry endorses us,” Rumple immediately says, remembering his sons pointed comments with a roll of his eyes, even as his heart flutters in his chest at the thought of having children with Belle. “You have met Harry?”

“Briefly,” Belle confirms, taking his hand and squeezing. “He seems like a nice young man.”

“He’s not as young as you’d think,” Rumple says depreciatively. “Neither is Baelfire.”

Belle smiles at that. “He’s _here_. You’ve found him.”

“He found me, more like,” Rumple shakes his head. “There are still issues to talk through. He hasn’t sought me out. I’m giving him as much space as he needs.”

“That’s good,” Belle encourages. “And what about Regina? I know you both weren’t on good terms…”

“She kidnapped you,” Rumple mutters. “She gave you back, but she still did it. I’m no better though. I still can’t fathom how Cora hid it from me – our deal was that she’d hand over our firstborn!”

“You loved her?” Belle picks up, clever woman that she is. Rumple nods.

“But she didn’t have a heart – literally. She plucked it from her chest long before Regina was born. Our _deal_ though. It’s _humiliating_. Not only did she cheat me out of- out of raising my _own daughter_ , but she hid our son, too!” He shakes in anger at it, glaring venomously at his lap.

“Shh, Rumple,” Belle soothes, stroking his hand with her thumb, their fingers interlocking. “What matters is that you know now, that you at least get some chance to be a father to them – and a grandfather to Henry and Lily, too. They’re _adorable_ , both of them and smart. You should be proud.”

“I am proud,” Rumple murmurs bitterly, feeling it swell in his chest as he thinks of his progeny and all their accomplishments that he knows about. “I am very proud.”

* * *

“You’re lucky Emma’s alive,” Graham mutters as he locks the cell. August just smiles genially from the cot, leg up and resting stiffly. “Unsuccessful attempted murder is still attempted murder.”

“I’m curious,” the man states. “What’s the penalty for helping break the Dark Curse? She and the Queen would have never got their act together if not for the life-threatening circumstances.”

“…shut up,” the Huntsman settles in his office, starting on the paperwork for August’s case.

“But really, I did help out and as you said, Emma’s alive.”

“I can’t release you.”

“What’s this about releasing him?” Snow questions as she enters the station, alarmed. Graham glances over at her.

“I’m not releasing him. I’m the sheriff and I’m the authority in this town, after the Mayor. If I say he’s not getting released, he’s not getting released.”

“Unless my lawyer pops up,” August inserts.

Graham sends him a Look. “You refused a lawyer, now – _shut_. _Up_.”

“Fine.”

Snow purses her lips, looking around. “Emma’s not shown up for her shift. You said she should have gotten here at two – it’s two thirty.”

“Emma’s taking the day off, apparently,” Graham mutters. “She’ll be back tomorrow, look.” He picks up a post-it note that he’d found stuck to his office door, handing it over. Snow takes it, reading the familiar scrawl.

“I’m worried about her. That _Harry_ person said she’s safe, but he’s allied with the Evil Queen.”

“The Queen still has my heart, might I remind you,” Graham points out before filling in part of the form for August’s imprisonment.

“Oh! We’ll get it back, I promise, Graham.”

“I don’t mind. Feelings are easier without a heart,” he says, before glancing up at her. “I’m busy right now, Princess. If you don’t have any other business, please leave the station.”

Snow hugs herself. “I’m sorry, I’ll go – but _promise_ to call if Emma shows up.”

“I make no promises,” Graham flips a knife out of his sleeve, pointing it at her sharply. “Now get out. I’ve had enough of people ordering me about. _Leave_.” Snow steps away, backing up until she finally turns, leaving the station. Graham puts the knife back in his sleeve before summarily snapping his pen, clenching his jaw. Putting it in the bin, he grabs another, getting back to his paperwork.

Inside the cell, August squeezes his eyes shut as his leg aches.

* * *

Her head is all confusing. She’s Grace, but she’s Paige – she’s lived two different lives, one in Storybrooke with her parents and one in the Enchanted Forest with her papa. It hurts to think of her life in Maine as fake because she _loves_ her parents, her mom and dad. _Paige_ can’t fathom ever leaving them, even when _Grace_ cries for her papa at night.

“We don’t know where he is, sweetheart,” her mom says, clutching her hand tightly as her dad goes over to Sheriff Humbert – _the Huntsman_ – instead of getting closer to the giant board where people are putting up drawings of relatives, family and friends, everyone trying to locate everyone. “But we’ll find him, okay.”

Paige knows her parents can remember their Enchanted Forest selves and her papa – Grace can remember going to their house, the _neighbours’ house_ and staying with them, the Queen providing so much money that Grace couldn’t stop staring at the chest of gold for _hours_. Grace wants her papa, though, despite having spent a year – _twenty-nine years_ – apart from him. At least, as Paige, she couldn’t remember she’d ever lost him. It’s both a blessing and a curse.

“Where are you, papa?” Grace – Paige, Grace, Paige, _Grace, Paige_ – burrows into her mom’s coat, unable to stop her eyes from welling up. “Where are you?”

Her dad talks to the Sheriff, who glances over at the two of them where they stand before frowning deeply, eyes set deep in his face, shadowed and dark – _he’s scary_ , Paige thinks, before Grace thinks, _he looks so sad._ He talks to her dad and she sees her dad go wide-eyed, wondering why as he quickly makes his way back to them.

“Honey, Jefferson- Jefferson was the one who shot Emma Swan and kidnapped Ruby Lucas.”

The words are strange to Grace’s ears. _Papa…papa what?_ Paige, different and more mature, who understands what _shot_ means and knows what a gun is, becomes rightly terrified, mind flashing back to the paper she’d seen on the kitchen table less than a week ago. There had been a bedraggled mugshot of a dead-eyed man and now- _Grace_ remembers the picture and she whimpers, recognising her father, even with the shorter haircut and the strange, circular scar on his neck.

“He’s in the asylum,” her dad whispers, thinking she wouldn’t hear at the volume he says it, but Paige hears it, Grace hears it. _Papa’s mad?_ “Remember the newspaper article? He was calling himself the Mad Hatter, from _Wonderland-_ ”

“Not in front of Paige,” her mom interrupts. “At least we know he’s alive. We’re going home now, unless you want to stay and try find your parents.”

“My fathers will track us down – I know them in this life. I talked to them in the mornings after the school run, when we were Cursed. Tall Pap did our gutters every evening, before time started again.”

“Oh gods, I remember!”

Paige doesn’t understand their conversation, remembering grandparents who died – two grandfathers and one grandmother, the grandmother’s husband dead and gone. Grace, knowing more, _remembering_ more, knows Tall Pap is one of the far-off neighbours that lives by the lake, with his husband, Small Pop. They share True Love and synchronising her memories – from Paige, from Grace – tells her that they both hate each other in this new life, but are inexplicably, unexplainably, always around each other, fighting and arguing.

Grace imagines her own grandparents, her _real_ grandparents, who wore funny hats and richly coloured clothes, who despised her papa for reasons she didn’t understand. Her papa always said that they didn’t like what he did for a living, what he did with a _gift_ – and that they would gladly take her from him, if he let them. Grace had never wanted to leave him though and she’d said as such.

 _“Good. Never let them take you. I love you so, so much, baby girl,”_ he kissed her forehead and hugged her tight, before showing her a new kind of stitch while repairing her stuffed toy.

In her mind, Paige revolts from the memories, wanting for store-bought toys and plushies with labels, even as Grace soaks in her recollections, trying to recall as much as she can of her papa. _Paige_ can remember _everything_ – even though _Paige_ doesn’t truly exist. Grace doesn’t want to lose herself to it, even though she loves her parents dearly – even though _Paige_ loves them dearly.

 _Paige is me and I am Grace_ , she thinks, _Grace is me and I am Paige. Why can’t I be both?_

She hugs her mother tighter.

* * *

Elsewhere (in the Enchanted Forest)

She struggles through thorns and thickets, hissing as one scratches her cheek. Brushing at the cut, rending a bloody smear across her face, Hua Mulan takes a moment to breathe upon finding a small clearing, the silence of the land disturbing her more than the desolation. Mulan is used to desolation, having travelled over said barren land for weeks now.

 _I’m close, now, Phillip’s ladylove will be returned to him,_ she sits down on a stray brick, large enough that even she – with her strong muscles from daily training – might have trouble carrying it. Creating a small fire with some nearby thicket, the dry bush catching alight easily, Mulan crisps the edges of some chimaera meat, preferring to eat smoky burnings than taste it.

As she tears into the disgusting food, she hears her travelling companion return, Phillip not even bothering to find a rock as he drops down to the ground, triumphantly holding up a sack full of what Mulan assumes to be berries.

“I found a bush, in a cave, thriving in the dark.”

“What if they’re poisonous?” Mulan inquires, “Don’t tell me you’ve eaten some, Your Highness.”

“Don’t worry, Mulan,” he smiles, taking a dark red fruit from the bag and popping one into his mouth. “These are local delicacies, hardy snowberries that I’ll assume have adapted to this new kind of drought. I remember them from when I was a both young and a child. Aurora would feed me by hand, when we spent time together on her balcony, overlooking her kingdom. Like you, my guard thought them poisonous when I was a boy, but I gleefully corrected him by devouring half a vine before he realised what was going on.”

“That’s the kind of reckless behaviour that kills you,” Mulan says smartly, before finishing her charred chimaera. “How close do you think we are?”

“Close. The rock you’re sitting on is part of the summer palace’s walls.” Phillip offers her some berries, utterly blasé. Mulan’s eyes widen. “She still might not be here, though. She could be dead.”

“Don’t be so miserable,” Mulan takes some berries, trying them tentatively and squirming at the tartness. _They’re better than chimaera, at least._ “We’ll locate your princess, Phillip.”

“I hope so.”


	18. check ii

She leans back in her strange, modern bed – a Queen, with soft, sleek fabrics covering it, coloured dark purple with white, flowery designs. Memories try to lodge in her mind, to explain that her sheets are _Egyptian silk_ and that if the room is too dark, there’s a _light-switch_ – but Maleficent is a dragon and she’s impervious to many magics. It’s disturbing to remember her time asleep beneath the town, because while she was a dragon, at the same time she was _Mal Smith_ , Storybrooke’s town hall archivist and she remembers _being_ Mal Smith, even while stuck in dragon-form.

Finding Lily, spending _time_ with Lily… _she’s so beautiful_ , Maleficent thinks wistfully, hating how she’d missed not just _over twenty years of her life_ , but also the new four-nearly-five, that she’d been deaged, living in Regina’s care. Maleficent can hardly believe she’s grown up so well, that she _knows_ that Maleficent is her other mother and that she came from an egg – she still has a piece, on a string that she wears to school and takes off before going to bed. _Lily is in **school**._

Sighing contentedly, Maleficent shuts her eyes, attempting to fall into a blissful state of rest…only to feel something strange. Frowning, Maleficent puts her hand to her stomach, before remembering sharply that stupid fake egg that Prince Charming had tricked her into swallowing. _Ugh_ , she thinks, feeling the powerful magic emanating from it all of a sudden, making her feel positively _ill_.

Getting up, the dragon leaves her apartment, swiftly stalking through the town and then to where she knows there is a field. Once out of the way, she lets her magic take hold of her, growing and bending into dragon-form. Inside her gut, the magic roils and it’s very strange, because Maleficent can sense the magic, _knows_ it – the magic is familiar in the sense that it comes from the Enchanted Forest and it isn’t in the air, saturating everything around it. The air here burns her scales, a foreign magic permeating the sky and the ground beneath her feet.

Distastefully, she coughs up the fake egg, not expecting the outside to melt, showing the vial of glowing _True Love_ inside.

_Well, well, well. What have we here?_

* * *

Elsewhere (in Hogwarts)

“ _Hey_ , Teddy, my man!”

Teddy flinches as an arm wraps around him, Royce’s gang crowding around them both. Hair greying with the drop in his mood, Teddy listens to Royce’s newest spiel about how liberal Hogwarts is, letting in werewolves and even a _vampire_.

“You should leave her alone,” Teddy interrupts when he gets to that point, dark blue taking over his hair and eyebrows as he finally stops walking, jerking Royce’s arm off his shoulders. Glaring, Teddy makes his eyes flare red, Royce jumping back, his fellow Ravenclaws following. “You should leave _me_ alone. Go do your homework. At least then, if you do it, I won’t have to put up with you when they hold you back again.”

“Shut up,” Royce takes out his wand, Teddy taps his fingers to his thumb again and again, mimicking his mouth as he rolls his eyes, a flash of fear running through him as his spike of confidence drops.

“You’re all talk. Aren’t eagles supposed to be _smart?_ ”

Royce mutters darkly, “I’m clever enough to know your head’s a mood-ring. Scared, Lupin?”

Teddy feels like crawling into a deep hole, but he fires back. “Going to do anything with that wand? Or did you just bring it out for show and tell?”

“ _Rictumsempra-_ ”

“ _Protego!_ ” Teddy’s wand is in his hand lightning-quick, wolf increasing his reflexes to help as he blurs the word, shield immediately reflecting the close-range tickling charm. Royce is immediately on the floor and Teddy figures he must have deliberately over-powered it – which he wouldn’t need to do, as while Teddy is fairly resistant to spells that affect his body, the tickling spell is a mind-trick, an enchantment made to trick the recipient.

Teddy is unfortunately very open-minded, on both the political _and_ mental front. It comes from having another being taking up a part of your head.

“What’s going on here?” Professor Longbottom questions.

“Royce was bullying him again,” a passing Christy answers, making Teddy cross his arms. Leaning back, trying to look casual, his façade crumbles as Professor Longbottom meets his eyes, worry visible.

“Are you alright, Ted?”

“I’m fine,” he mutters, eyes flickering to Royce’s friend, Kieran as he shuffles just past Teddy’s three o’clock.

“Mr Jason,” Professor Longbottom addresses the laughing boy on the floor, “when you recover, please come to my office for afternoon detention. Your friends here can join you. The later you arrive, the later the second part of your detention after dinner.”

“Y-y-yes Profe-fe-fessor!” Royce giggles madly.

“Mr Lupin, you actually have a visitor,” Professor Longbottom motions him to follow, Teddy surprised enough by his words that he briefly forgets Royce’s veiled prejudice against non-humans. His hair flushes yellow and his feet move without his permission, letting Professor Longbottom lead him through Hogwarts before remembering again, yellow going an ugly green-orange-mustard mix that makes Teddy grimace as it flops down over his eyes.

“Who’s here?”

“I think you know who’s here.”

“…I really don’t.”

“Guess,” his herbology professor smiles, Teddy grimacing before jogging to catch up with him, long-legged as the adult is.

“Nana?”

“No.”

“Aunt Hermione?” _She likes popping in for visits,_ he recalls.

“Nope. Hermione wouldn’t be waiting in the entrance hall signing autographs,” Professor Longbottom says as they turn the corner, advancing down the Grand Staircase into the Entrance Hall, where a small hoard of people are milling around the familiar, dark-haired form of his godfather.

Teddy instantly relaxes at the sight of him, hair swiftly turning into a dark black mess, edgy turquoise swirl as bright as ever. Harry obviously sees him at some point, because his voice raises and he says, ‘ _one more_ ’. The crowd groan, calling out for him, but he only signs one more autograph before making his way over to Teddy. As he gets closer, however, Teddy’s eyes widen.

“Holy Merlin on a stake,” he breathes at the sight of his _older_ godfather. “You’ve got wrinkles!”

“Yep, though I’m still as handsome as ever,” Harry greets him as he leaves the bottom steps, hugging him tightly. His hand comes to Teddy’s head, ruffling the thick curls before he sighs. “Teddy, we found out where Zelena is.”

“You did?” Teddy’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you say earlier?”

“Because I’m going to go through the Door to get her – don’t worry! I’m coming back, I swore not to leave you behind, remember?” Harry copies his expression, holding him tightly. Teddy grips the sleeve of Harry’s button-up, biting his lip.

“I remember. You promise to come back?”

“I promise, I swear on my magic, see,” he takes his wand out, the familiar holly glowing briefly before the light dies as Harry returns it to his holster. “I just wanted to come tell you in person, before I go.”

“Okay, you’ve told me,” Teddy nods, glancing at the other Hogwarts students still milling about, taking photos that he’s long gotten used to – he’d grown up with the flash of cameras. “You can go now.”

Harry’s face twists. “Teddy-”

“You can go now,” the metamorphmagus repeats. “Bye.” He leaves, _really_ not in the mood to see his godfather. Moving out of his hug, Teddy stalks to the Great Hall for an early dinner, hair twisting Weasley orange as he does. _He promised not to leave…he swore, but he’s still leaving…fuck him. Just…fuck him._

* * *

Harry’s still subdued by the time he gets to the Department of Mysteries, where DoM workers are waiting for him. That Teddy would just disregard him like that…not caring isn’t something Harry’s ever seen him do before. Obviously, something was wrong – Teddy’s hair had changed, even, but not going angry red or bored yellow, _no._ Weasley orange. Harry had only ever seen him do that consciously and by the flat expression on his godson’s face, that hadn’t been the case. _Unless he was trying to hide his emotions_ , Harry then thinks with a frown. _Which isn’t good, actually. What has he got to hide?_

As one of the DoM workers motions him over, Harry disregards thoughts of Teddy, deciding to think on it all later. He focuses on Zelena, wondering if she has dark hair like the rest of them, if her eyes are brown or green. _I hope they’re green_ , he thinks, wanting not to be the only one anymore. A DoM worker taps their wand on Harry’s head, making a tickling feeling fall over him. He fidgets uncomfortably before approaching the Door at the workers’ leave, laying a hand against its flat, warm surface, concentrating.

_I wish I could get to Oz and back to see my sister._

The Door grows hot beneath his palm and he hears a surprised, gleeful yell from a DoM worker as it clicks open. Not sparing another glance for the workers, Harry steps inside, shutting the door behind him – which immediately clicks again, causing his stomach to drop. _Should I have left it open?_

Harry looks around, spying dozens, no, _hundreds_ of doors of all different types. His eyes widen and he wonders, _which is the door to Oz?_ Death appears by his side a moment later

“ _I can sense your kin through that portal door,_ ” the apparition says, pointing to a bejewelled green door with a dark and pale hand. Harry approaches it, trusting Death to know. Turning the green glass handle, he opens the door slowly, to see the inside of a bustling green street.

“The Emerald City?” Harry questions Death, who nods. “Right, the Wizard of Oz…I hope my magic works the same through there, or I’m screwed.” Taking a deep breath, he steps through and the door shuts behind him before he can do anything about it. Just as quickly, Death disappears, only to reappear a few seconds later.

“ _I cannot stay long. You might be my master, but this is not my realm._ ”

“It’s okay, you can go,” Harry murmurs, activating the stealth features of his Auror robe, still pleased beyond belief that he was allowed to keep it, despite resigning so soon after joining the Ministry. The magic hums, before red fades into dark emerald and his golden brocades glitter silver. _My magic works the same, I think._ A quick glance around makes Harry realise that the colour scheme of most others is the same as what his robes had taken – he also realises that said others are either guards or locals in fancy, eccentric dress, though the guards are solely green and silver, where the main populace differentiate, outfits often accented in bronze and gold.

Walking into the street, joining the crowd, Harry searches for somewhere he can work his tracking magic in peace, but the crowd shepherds him further and further into the city, moving him closer to the tall, gleaming emerald spires of what he assumes is the palace. Eventually, he finds himself in a marketplace, some scant few dozen yards from tall, golden gates. He peers at them briefly – eyeing the manned turrets with green-suited guards and their crossbows – before looking around for those exchanging goods for coin. A murmured replication spell has a copy of one lying in his hands.

Pausing at the central fountain, leaning against it somewhat like some nearby teenagers who aren’t scared to make out with each other in public, Harry flips the coin around in his hand. It’s simple, an ornate _Z_ pounded into the centre, surrounded by numerals he presumes are the date of making.

A screech suddenly rends the air and Harry is quick to pinpoint the source – a giant, flying monkey, that is quickly followed by dozens of others before a green-skinned witch comes flying around on her broomstick. The marketplace is silent at the sight of her, but everyone kneels and Harry follows instantly, blending in as he bows his head, clenching the replicated coin tightly in his palm.

“Who is casting magic in my city?” the witch questions, the flying monkeys settling on rooftops and then the ground, prowling around. The push over townsfolk, but they don’t utter a peep. _A dictatorship. I might not have seen the Wizard of Oz in years, but I know enough to figure this is the Wicked Witch of the West._ Harry stops a frown from forming, steadfastly looking at the green cobbled street, even as he questions, _how did she sense my magic?_

Beside him, one of the teenage boys lets out a terrified sob of fright and pain as a flying monkey swipes at him and Harry suddenly refuses to take this, standing and wandlessly petrifying the monkey in place as it tries to move on, looking over the boy as the Wicked Witch harrumphs.

“Who are you to freeze my monkey?”

Harry ignores her as he steps over to the teenagers, crouching to be at their level as he checks over the wound the monkey’s claws had left, pushing past fabric to see the wound underneath. Remembering how the Wicked Witch never used a wand in _Wizard of Oz_ and his father’s promise about his ability to wield magic, regardless of his prior education, Harry focuses on healing the wound, letting his magic pour out of his hand in a fine, Slytherin green mist. The boy breathes heavily, but begins to relax as the wound closes – and then, Harry cheating a little with a silent _Reparo_ , his silken bronze shirt knits back together. The blood-stain remains, until Harry cleans it off with a handy spell he’d learnt in the Auror Academy.

“There you go,” he says, giving a short smile. “Chin up.”

“Y-y-yes, sir,” but the boy ducks his head, bending his back further down to bow, chest touching his bent knee as Harry winces.

“You don’t need to do that, just a thank-you’s enough.”

“Thank-you,” the boy’s partner says, voice stronger. Harry gives him a nod before standing again, looking up at the silent Wicked Witch.

“Why did you heal him?”

“Why didn’t _you?_ Don’t you own this city? Are its residents no concern of yours?”

The Wicked Witch rolls her eyes, Harry noticing from a distance just how strangely blue they are. Her green skin just…doesn’t mix well and even worse, he thinks, is that her hair is auburn. _Clashing colours_ , Harry recalls one of Regina’s lectures from when he’d tried to convince her that his old wardrobe was fine – he’d failed, obviously. _At least she’s not got Christmas-red hair. That would really be pushing it._

“They got close to the flying monkeys. I don’t control the movements of peasants.”

“That…that’s absurd,” Harry blinks at her, incredulous. “ _‘They got close to the flying monkeys_ ’ is seriously your excuse? You’re the one that let them out here and also, everyone in this courtyard are still as can be, trying not to antagonise them, or you, presumably.”

“Are you questioning my competency?” the woman asks, as if she’d never been questioned before, before glaring, bringing a green fireball to hand, even as she wobbles on her broom. “I’d apologise, if I were you.”

“And I’d put my hand back on my broom, if I were you,” Harry replies. “You’ll fall if you’re not careful. That broom’s a sham, I can tell from here.”

The Wicked Witch gasps, fireball disappearing as she grasps the wood again. “I made this!”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Harry questions, finding the topic of their conversation slightly ridiculous. “Do you even have stabilising enchantments on that thing? Proper braking charms?”

“What are you on about?” the witch asks in reply. “Who _are_ you?”

“I’m…Salazar, Salazar Slytherin,” _it’s all the green,_ he grimaces, before reaching up to press against either end of his eyebrows briefly, trying to find a sense of calm. “I’d rather not be here, but I’m trying to find someone.” He pauses, before clarifying at her interested expression. “My sister.”

“Who is your sister?” A slightly disheartened expression slips onto her face.

“I’d rather not say. I’ve heard about you, unfortunately,” Harry pastes a fake smile on his face, wishing he’d just found some dark alleyway to cast his tracking spell in – though, maybe the continued use of magic would just trail back to him in the end, if the witch in front of him could track him with it. “The Wicked Witch of the West, is it? The green skin’s kind of a giveaway.”

Said witch glares with burning ferocity. “Did Glinda send you? Did she send some shoddy light magic-user to try defeating me?”

“No, I’ve never met Glinda in my life,” Harry says honestly, shaking his head. “I just want to find my sister and bring her home, or find out if she’s okay or something.”

“That’s a lot of option,” the Wicked Witch mutters darkly. “What? Is she hiding from you? Did she run away?”

“I’ve never even met her, but that’s none of your business…” Harry frowns. “What do people even call you? Are you a queen? An empress? Do you have a name?”

“Of course I have a name,” she snaps, before finally floating down to the ground, the townsfolk scattering finally, breaking from their kneeling bows, making huddles and rushing away from monkeys that screech at them. “Oh, go about your business!” The Witch snaps, before ordering the flying monkeys away. She glares at anyone and everyone, the market full of chatter soon enough – though the people still eye them both with trepidation.

“You’ve got everything locked down,” Harry notes warily, wondering if Zelena is one of the masses, someone who fears the Wicked Witch like her fellows. _Maybe she’d agree to come back to Storybrooke with me, to get away from here._

“I know,” the Wicked Witch replies snootily, raising her chin as she approaches. Harry, to his slight disappointment, realises she’s taller than him by several inches. He glances down and breathes a sigh of relief. _Heels. There’s still a chance_. “So, all you want to do here is question me and find your beloved, lost, baby sister?”

“Yeah, totally,” Harry scoffs. “Though, if she’s a baby, I will question Mother’s sanity for having a child at her supposed age.” _Though, to be fair, she had me._

“You have _no_ idea who she is?” the Wicked Witch raises an eyebrow, amused and…it reminds Harry of Regina, how wonderful she looks when she isn’t glaring or spitting fire – or holding it. The change in her face is palpable and even the green doesn’t detract from her appearance, making Harry realise that the Wicked Witch is a person too. _She also just looks like Regina._ “Do you even have a name?”

“I have a name,” Harry defends, before pointing at her, fishing, trying to think up a distraction. “Unlike you.”

The Wicked Witch narrows her eyes. “As if _Salazar Slytherin_ is your real name.” And then her hand reaches forwards and while Harry gets up his hand to grasp her wrist, her hand has already sunken into his chest, fingers slipping through and touching _something_. His strength wavers and she digs in, grasping at that _something_ that- that she _squeezes,_ before ripping out.

Harry stares at his heart in her hand, pulsing and red, glowing with a red light.

“Tell me your real name,” she orders him and it’s a compulsion that he _cannot_ refuse – it isn’t like the imperius or even hypnosis. Harry has no control, except for one thing.

“Maximus,” he gasps, “My name is Maximus.” It _is_ true – it _has_ to be true, ‘real’.

“Who is your sister?” She then questions and Harry’s stuck for a moment, knowing that saying _Zelena_ or even _Regina_ could endanger them both. _My sister, who is my sister?_ Harry opens his mouth-

“Luna!” he practically shouts, clutching at the Wicked Witch’s wrist tighter as she grips his heart, pain coursing through him, forcing him to his knees.

“I know the name of every person in this city and there is no _Luna_ here. Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t!”

“You obviously did, at some point,” the Wicked Witch narrows her eyes. “Who are you looking for?”

There’s no way to avoid the question, he doesn’t have enough time to think of an alternate answer and her name swirls in front of his eyes, forming on his tongue.

“ _Zelena,_ ” he bites, glaring, not expecting the sudden startled expression.

“What?” She barks, face twisting. “Why are you here for her? What do you want from her?”

“To tell her we exist,” Harry scrambles, not knowing what he’s saying. “To convince her to come home with me. I don’t know. I don’t want anything from her. I just want to know that she’s okay, please.”

The Wicked Witch’s grip relaxes on his heart and she steps away from him, his fingers unlatching from her wrist. Harry shakes, feeling the absence of his heart like a sore thumb. It’s an ache in his chest, a cavity that won’t fade. He can feel his heart beating and _hears_ it, in the Wicked Witch’s hand.

“Why did you take it?” he questions her.

“I needed the truth,” she replies, words quiet as the marketplace, which has gone silent. “You said you were looking for your sister. How many sisters do you have?”

“Three?” Harry mutters – _Regina, Zelena, Luna_ – before thinking of Red, Hermione and the Flying Foxes – Angelina, Katie and Alicia, who would ruffle his hair and teach him tricks rather than pay attention to Oliver at practice. “More.”

“By blood?”

“Two.”

“Who?”

“Regina and Zelena.”

“Who is your mother?” the Wicked Witch snaps, squeezing his heart again. Harry grunts.

“Cora.”

“And your father?”

Harry groans at that. _Oh no._ “Gold,” he gets up, refusing to say _Rumplestiltskin_.

But the Wicked Witch still snarls his real name like a curse, obviously aware of his Storybrooke counterpart. “No! The Dark One doesn’t have children!”

“He’s got three, actually,” Harry grunts, before forcing himself to his feet. Death flickers into existence by his side.

“ _If your heart is crushed, you shall be resurrected like any other demise,_ ” they say in a comforting tone, before disappearing again in a flicker.

“Is Zelena one of them?” the Wicked Witch asks in a slightly horrified voice.

“No,” Harry is forced to admit, as much as he’d rather change that. “I wish she were though. I don’t know what happened to her dad and we’re not related, so I can’t find him to ask if he knows her or anything like that.”

“Why do you do this? Why do you want to find Zelena? Why would you want her to be your full-blood sibling?” she questions viciously.

“Because I like the concept of family,” more words tumble from his mouth. “I want a family.”

The Wicked Witch is silent at his answer. After a few seconds of silence, she lets off a short scream before stomping her foot and stalking back over, stuffing his heart back into his chest.

“I don’t want you!” she shouts in his face. “I don’t want a family! I’ve got Oz, I’ve got the Emerald City and my flying monkeys and- and people and all the munchkins! I don’t need you!”

Harry takes a second to process that.

Then, of course, he – cleverly, very cleverly – doesn’t say a word as he tries to get over his shock, letting her shout and scream in his face.

By the time she runs out of steam, sniffing and wiping her eyes, Harry has learnt many things. One is that the Wicked Witch is very, very jealous of the supposedly glorious life Regina has led, both as a queen and as the daughter Cora decided to actually raise. Another thing is that she has been horribly treated by many people in her life, including – but not limited to – her father, who hated the magic that comes easy to her as breathing and Glinda, who really does seem dim, to Harry.

Also, most importantly, he learns that the Wicked Witch of the West is Zelena.

“My birth name was Maximus,” he says, after she’s finished, holding out his hand with a slightly cough. “I’m Harry, Harry Potter. I was adopted. I’m your half-brother through our birth-mother, Cora. It’s nice to finally meet you, Zelena, despite the awkward circumstances.”

Zelena, the Wicked Witch of the West, stares at him like he’s mad. _I might be_ , he silently agrees, _but I’m willing to offer her a chance. She just has to take it._

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Well,” Harry jokes, “you did hold my heart in your hand.” Silence. _Bad joke._ He drops his hand. “Seriously though, I mean…ever since I found out our- my, crazy family tree, I’ve been trying to track everyone down. I didn’t really expect my sisters to be the Evil Queen and the Wicked Witch of the West, to be honest, but I mean, you’re different from how you’ve been portrayed. Regina actually had a shit life – _don’t_ argue about that, with me,” he sees her start to retort, cutting her off. “Regina actually had a shit life. Obviously, so have you. So did I. Baelfire had a shit life as well. If we weren’t all siblings, basically, I would vote to start a club.”

“How could Regina’s life be bad, with all she’s accomplished?” Zelena questions, incredulous.

“Pot and kettle, much?” Harry raises an eyebrow, raising his arm. “Look at you! Look at this place! You’re a dictator and people in _other realms_ fear you. All that, you did with ten times less support that Regina had. Now, I’m not saying either of you are _better_ than the other, but seriously, Zelena, the only thing you’re lacking is two kids and a Saviour for a girlfriend.”

“Two kids and a _what?_ ”

Harry repeats himself.

Zelena snaps her broomstick in half in anger.

“Thank Merlin, that thing was an _eyesore_.”

“Shut _up_.”


	19. check iii

The shop bell rings as Maleficent enters, causing her to glance upwards before she pinpoints the Dark One and the woman who Mal Smith knew as the pretty, young Belle Gold nee French. The two are kissing up against a bookcase but her entrance distracts them and Maleficent rolls her eyes at the slight pink smudging around their lips.

“I have something of yours, Rumplestiltskin. I’m debating whether or not to return it, or use it for my own purposes.”

“What have you got?” he wipes at his mouth, delicately lowering his faux-wife to the ground, the woman quickly shifting her dark blue skirt back into position, coughing slightly.

Maleficent holds up the vial of True Love. “That _charming_ young prince of yours did a _fabulous_ job at hiding this.”

“Rumple? What’s that?” Belle questions.

“True Love, precious,” Maleficent smiles thinly at her. “You’d know something about this, perhaps. Is it yours?”

“It’s Snow White and Prince Charming’s,” the Dark One snaps, correcting. “Leave Belle be. She’s no princess for you to send into slumber.”

“Actually-” said princess starts, to Maleficent’s amusement, before he hurriedly bats her hip, silently telling her to quiet.

“Would you like it back in your hands?” the dragon questions, waving the bottle, finally approaching them and letting the door shut with another ring.

“I’d rather use it to bring our type of magic to this realm,” Rumplestiltskin replies.

“ _Oh…_ ” Maleficent breathes as she comes to a halt nearby them, on the other side of the glass cabinets, thinking of it. “Now, that is interesting. Because, you see, both my daughter and I don’t have any need of that, what with our Fire being a part of us. There are magic users of this realm, too, apparently.”

“My son is one of them,” he says stiffly. “Aye, I know.”

Maleficent considers the True Love potion, twirling it in her hand before nodding. “There _would_ be certain…benefits, to having our magic here. But what if we returned to the Enchanted Forest? Leaving our magic here could be…” she leaves her sentence unfinished, not quite knowing how to end it, thoughts derailing. _Certainly, there could be negative consequences to it._

“I am quite certain that Storybrooke would not be abandoned so hastily, not by the vast majority of its residents. If there were a mass consensus to leave, I’m sure that there are enough of us to reverse the process, while leaving.”

_Us, as in magic-users._

Maleficent tilts her head. “Cruella and Ursula disappeared through the portal with Lily, according to young Henry’s book. A new chapter has appeared, since my reunion with Lily. They abandoned my daughter, but they were still my friends and I do not blame them – dragon hatchlings do not survive long without their mothers, no matter how much care witches give them. That this land’s magic differed so greatly from our own and what the Apprentice did must be part of the reason she did live to survive so long before coming here.”

Rumpelstiltskin makes a face, “What did the Apprentice do _now?_ ”

“Supposedly, he exchanged Emma Swan’s potential for darkness with Lily’s potential for good.” Maleficent pauses, before holding out the vial to him. “Help me reverse whatever the buffoon _actually_ did.”

Rumplestiltskin gives her a sharp nod, taking the True Love. “A deal gladly made.” A small smile grows on his face. “Welcome to the family, Maleficent.”

The dragon gives a loud, good laugh. “Oh, Rumplestiltskin, a tenuous connection at best, but yes, I agree. I did have a child with your daughter, after all.”

He rolls his eyes, waving his hand. “Off with you, you overgrown lizard.”

“Good day, dear father.”

“Oh, no way in _any hell_ are you calling _me_ your _father-_ ”

* * *

Regina doesn’t even realise something’s happening until the purple smoke rolls over her. It feels like- like _hope_ and _happiness_ , a foreign set of feelings that aren’t her own, but she recognises all the same, reminding her of the True Love’s kiss she’d shared with Emma less than twelve hours ago.

“What the hell was that?” Emma looks around wildly once the smoke disappears, hand clasping Henry’s, the woman practically lunging to take Regina’s. The witch clutches the appendage heavily, knowing that there’s a new depth to the world around her. A laugh bubbles from her chest, pure and content as she understands what has just taken place. _I don’t know how, but it’s been done. Maybe it was my father. He’s the most likely person to blame._ “Regina?”

“Magic, Emma, magic from our world,” she whispers with a brilliant smile, giggling slightly before she raises her hand- only for nothing to appear. Regina’s smile disappears as she reaches for the familiar power, using her anger as the key – but nothing comes of it. Oh, Regina can feel it under her skin, heady and intoxicating, but nothing _forms_ from it. A realisation washes over her. “This is why Harry uses a wand.”

Regina had studied Harry’s magical theory books – she knew that magic-users of this world use magic that comes from _inside_ , rather than the world around them. Using a wand, they use words, incantations, to unlock their power and let it out in a specific way. Regina had often wondered if magic-users of old locked their own power this way, or if someone had tried to eradicate magic by putting it into people, who would wither and die. Harry and Luna’s people had obviously found ways around the binding – _bind magic to their blood and curse a prison of their bones?_ – though Regina hadn’t realised that maybe the same kind of restriction applied to _their_ magic, if it were brought here.

 _I could find a way to use my magic with time,_ she thinks, already closing her eyes and reaching out experimental threads. _Maybe I should ask Harry to take me to a wandmaker-_

A burst of power flows through her like lightning, coming directly from Emma. Her fireball springs to life, quickly growing in size and ferocity before Regina abruptly ends the life of it, -looking at Emma sharply.

“You.”

“Me? You just made a fireball in- in your _hand!_ ” Emma exclaims, terrified. Henry, on the other hand, is staring at Regina like she’s the messiah.

“Mom…that was _so cool._ Will I be able to do that?”

Regina wants to say no, that he won’t – but she feels magic in Emma, beating like a drum. Regina reaches out, tapping into it and Emma shudders, a soft white light starting to glow between their hands as Regina focuses on bringing it out.

“What…what’s that?” Emma looks at their hands with trepidation, leaning back a little. Henry suddenly takes Regina’s hand and all of a sudden, they’re a circuit, magic fizzling between them all. Regina shuts her eyes at the influx of power, Emma’s magic flowing through her to Henry and through Henry to Regina. It doesn’t go in one singular direction and a few moments later, Regina belatedly realises her own magic is there, dark and deep. She is an _ocean_ and Emma’s magic is so different, so less weighted with pain and suffering.

 _Henry,_ Regina thinks in horror, before trying and failing to wrench her hand from his. But her son holds tight, supernaturally tight and the circuit isn’t breaking. Regina doesn’t know what is happening, but Henry’s nails squeeze into her skin and blood-

“What the fuck is this?”

“Language, Miss Swan,” Regina says in a high voice as something comes to mind, a page from one of Rumplestiltskin’s old books. _True Loves can always find each other because of bonds of magic – bonds that include any children they have together._ She looks to where Henry and Emma’s hands are clasped, but he hasn’t drawn blood like he has with her. “Oh my.”

“What’s happening, mom?” Henry asks, sounding both exhilarated and scared. “Are we making magic?”

“No, we can’t- that’s not how it works. Emma is a powerhouse and it kick-started something when you took both our hands.” Regina licks her lips, refusing to mention that, _technically_ , it was her fault because of how she was pulling at Emma’s magic with her own, forcing it out of her body. A sensation suddenly rolls through the loop and Henry yelps, Regina letting out a small cry of pain, leaning into Emma as her stomach protests- but _that’s not my stomach, what is that?_ It rips and tears and it’s like making herself infertile all over again.

After a few moments, however, it thankfully fades – as does the magic, settling in each of them. Regina lets go of Emma’s hand, bringing it up to Henry’s face.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“My eyes are sore,” he blinks rapidly and Regina can’t contain her gasp, putting a hand to her mouth at the bright emerald that stares back at her, rather than Henry’s usual brown. It’s a familiar, familiar green, so clear and jewel-like. “Mom?”

“Oh my god, kid, your _eyes_ ,” Emma gasps.

“What? What about my eyes?” Henry questions, before twisting out of her grip, running to the nearest mirror – the one on the mantelpiece, pulling himself up over the edge to see his reflection in the quickly-foggy surface. “I look like Harry.”

“How did this happen, Regina?” Emma asks, pressing her for an answer. Regina rubs at her stomach over her silk shirt and skirt, pushing her blazer out of the way.

“We are True Loves, Miss Swan – and he was your biological child, caught inside a ring of magic. Magic has a mind of its own, sometimes, but logical thought, applied on top of Henry’s personal belief that I am his mother…” Regina lets it all trail off, Emma not comprehending.

“You magic-adopted me?” Henry catches on, however.

Regina gives a tight smile, Emma’s wide eyes sticking like that as she sways, letting go of Regina’s hand. Regina watches her and as soon as she sees her about to move to leave, she snaps a hand out, taking the Saviour by her wrist.

“Don’t run,” she warns.

“I’m- I’m not running,” Emma shakes her head. “I’m…I’m just tingly and I feel like I’m about to _explode_ – and apparently what happened was my fault, so…let go of my wrist, please, before I do something like- like turn you ginger, permanently.”

“I assure you, Emma, you won’t turn me ginger, though if you do, then I will be thoroughly displeased and have you reverse it,” Regina says in a sharp but steady voice. Emma tugs at her wrist, but Regina pulls her in close, taking initiative and reaching up to cup her cheek with her spare hand. Emma is like a startled animal and from the way her magic is pulsing – leaking out of her, Regina can _taste_ it in the air and oh how she is jealous of this woman born of True Love, a naturally-produced source of magic, like Harry’s _witches_ , but not like Regina, who takes and pays the price for her stealing of the lands power – Regina predicts that Emma is more correct about _exploding_ than she might realise.

 _No control_ , she thinks as she presses her lips against Emma’s. Just standing there for a few moments, lips against lips, a tangible, physical proof of how Regina actually feels during this tumultuous time is enough to calm Emma a little. Regina pulls away and meets Emma’s eyes.

“I’m going to teach you how to control your magic and if you give me enough incentive…” Regina curls her lip, leaning to breath in Emma’s ear, “I’ll show you some tricks you can use in bed. There are many, I can assure you now, _Miss Swan._ ”

Emma’s breathing hitches, the pressure of her magic disappearing from the air. “ _Oh._ ”

Regina smirks, before stepping back, twisting her head as a sharp knock comes from the door. It opens as she walks around the sofa, Lily skipping inside, throwing off her jacket onto the floor.

“Lily Andromeda, pick that up right now,” Regina says in a steely voice, Lily lighting up at the sight of her. She basically jumps into her mother’s arms, Regina sighing and hugging her, glancing over at Maleficent as she comes inside, picking up the wayward jacket. “Did you have a nice day?”

“Uh-huh! Mommy took me into the forest and taught me about rabbits for eating, when I’m a dragon and there’s no food!” Lily exclaims, before looking over at Emma. “Hi Emma!”

“Hey, Lils,” Emma waves slightly at her old friend, smiling at her. The clock on the mantelpiece chimes and Regina is slightly startled to find that it’s nine o’clock in the evening. “Bedtime for the kids?”

“Definitely,” Regina twists to look at Henry, who’s still inspecting his new eyes. “Henry, go get into your pyjamas.”

He whines, “But it’s Saturday!”

“You can have half an hour to read before bed,” Regina allows. “I’ll come in to turn your light off in thirty minutes. Now, upstairs.” Henry grumbles but goes, pausing to hug her and Emma goodnight and accept Lily’s kiss, leaning down from Regina’s arms to his cheek. He even spares Maleficent a goodnight. Once he’s disappeared up the stairs, Regina speaks to the dragon directly. “I thought you were taking Lily tonight.”

“I was, however Lily made it clear she didn’t want to,” Maleficent says quietly. A pang of sympathetic pain aches in Regina’s chest, before she nods.

“Another night, then.”

“Another night, then,” Maleficent repeats. “Goodnight, Lily.”

“Night, mommy,” Lily yawns, rubbing her eyes. Without another word, Maleficent disappears in a swirl of smoke and Regina forces herself not to frown at the sight – obviously, Maleficent had figured out how to use their magic with its new rules and restrictions without a direct power-source to draw on. _Though, she has her Fire_ , Regina thinks, before deciding it unlikely the dragon would use it to power trivial tricks. Mal was never one for teleporting, in any case. “I’m sleepy, mama.”

“Right,” Regina snaps into action, glancing at Emma. “Stay the night?”

“I was just going to go home,” Emma says, before her brow furrows. “Mary-Margaret.”

Immediately, Regina’s lip curls. _Snow White._ “Not any longer.”

Emma pauses.

“Stay the night,” Regina offers again, shifting Lily to one hip and offering her hand. “Emma, do you really want to face your parents today?”

“No, not really,” Emma mumbles before taking her hand, letting Regina lead her upstairs. She stands in the doorway while Regina helps Lily undress and tucks her into bed, Regina belatedly realising that Maleficent had left with Lily’s jacket. _I can’t blame her for holding onto it,_ Regina thinks, wondering about what might have happened, had she and Emma not gotten on – if Emma had tried to take Henry. _I would have never let her succeed, not even thinking about Harry. Gods, he’d murder her and dig her shallow grave himself._

No-one messes with their family and gets away alive.

After putting Lily to bed, they get dressed, Emma changing into a spare flannel set of clothes that Regina has in the back of her closet. While going through her nightly rituals, Regina keeps an eye on Emma, watching her go through her drawers in boredom.

“We need to talk,” Regina broaches, watching her…her _whatever_ , go still. “We need to talk about where we’re going, together, what that means for our respective families and what each of us will do for the other, in terms of changing behaviours and taking on responsibilities.”

Emma glances over. “Are we going to get into deep stuff? Like, future-future stuff?”

“Yes, Miss Swan, _future-future stuff_ ,” Regina says, slightly mockingly, lip twitching up. Emma rolls her eyes before collapsing on her bed, eyeing her reflection on the mirror.

“Do you think we’ll be married, ten years from now?”

Regina stills, caught slightly off-guard. _Married._ She thinks of it, swallowing at the swirling, interconnected memories of Daniel and Leopold’s proposals – of what came of each.

“I’ve been married before, once,” she murmurs, catching Emma’s eyes. “I can’t say that it was a pleasant affair. Though, I do suppose marrying you, specifically, might make up for it.”

Emma rolls her eyes with a small smile, “I think that might actually be a better idea for revenge than the whole Dark Curse nonsense, to be fair.”

Regina chuckles in amusement, “I suppose it does, in retrospect. My revenge would be a constant punishment for Snow White, knowing that I’m her _daughter-in-law_.” She lets out a louder laugh at that, which turns into girlish giggles as she thinks of Snow’s _face._ Emma rolls her eyes again.

“Yeah, yeah, live it up. Luckily for me, the lack of surprise that we’re in a relationship in the first place won’t give either of my parents a heart-attack.”

“I have custody of their grandchild, though and he’s my nephew, biologically,” Regina points out, “What if I told them that, while telling them you were getting married to me?”

Emma once again rolls her eyes.

“Fine. So, we probably will be married, ten years from now-” Regina sucks in a breath at that, remembering only then that they had started out having a serious conversation “-and Henry doesn’t hate me. Neither does Lily.”

“Lily might be more confused about calling a third woman her mother,” Regina muses uneasily, turning in her seat finally to look at Emma directly, rather than through the mirror. “Do you even want Lily calling you her mother?”

“Uh, well…” Emma looks up at the ceiling, frowning. “You and dragon-lady are her mothers. Like, full-stop, _you guys are her mothers_.”

“Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome,” Emma takes a moment to breathe, before continuing. “Lily can call me whatever she wants, so long as it isn’t at either of your expense.”

“…you aren’t entirely dim-witted, it seems,” Regina teases. “Thank-you, again.”

“No problem, Gina.”

“No, no, you aren’t calling me that,” Regina shakes her head sharply. “The only person who can get away with that is Harry, because he’s a little shit.”

Emma gives her a wide grin. “C’mon, _Gina._ ”

“ _No._ ”

“Gina,” Emma playfully whines, before Regina stands, coming to tower over her girlfriend.

“Do not call me ‘Gina’,” she says in a threatening voice, only for Emma to reach over, tugging her to the edge of the bed, holding her in place as she rolls to sit properly. “Emma-”

“Want me to eat you out? I got myself checked out, by the way – I’m clean.”

Feeling a hot knot beginning to twist in her stomach, Regina rolls her eyes. “I am too, obviously, but Miss Swan-”

“You _do_ know that calling me Miss Swan makes me hot and bothered, right?” Emma drawls, interrupting, fingers brushing the underside of her skirt. “Want me to eat you out?”

“I’ve got to put Henry to bed in ten minutes,” Regina says in warning, before tugging up her skirt, Emma immediately reaching for her panties, pulling them down as Regina delicately arranges her skirt. Stepping back to let Emma down onto the ground, she watches the blonde kneel, using a hairband on her wrist to tie her hair back. She feels a rush that makes her both high and aroused, the dynamic of having Emma beneath her…

“I’ll be quick,” Emma promises, before angling her head, hands coming up to grip Regina’s thighs as she licks a stripe up her leg. Regina wonders briefly if her legs will buckle, after this is done, before they gets down to business, Emma licking and swirling her tongue around her clit. It takes an embarrassingly short time to be brought to a high, but the edge remains stuck firmly on the horizon.

“Fuck, _dios_ ,” Regina swears, squeezing her eyes shut as Emma pauses all of a sudden. “What are you doing, Emma? Don’t stop, for gods-” she slaps a hand over her mouth as she hears a door open – Henry’s door – as Emma works her into a flurry, tipping her over the edge. Biting back a loud cry, she groans, squeezing her eyes shut.

“ _Mom? It’s bedtime,_ ” she hears Henry through the door as she shakes, Emma ripping away from her, frantic.

“Henry, go wait in your room,” Regina orders, but her voice is shaking.

“ _Mom?_ ” he questions, worried. Her door handle starts to turn and Emma puts up her hand.

“Don’t come in!” she shouts, before the door shimmers silver, the door shaking in its frame as Henry tries to open it. Regina stares at it, both in horror and relief. “Go to your bedroom, kid, your mom will be there soon!”

“ _Are you okay? Why is the door locked? I didn’t even know the door **could** lock._ ”

“It doesn’t lock,” Regina mutters, before stepping away from Emma, nearly falling over in her heels before she walks unsteadily to her bathroom. “We’re fine, Henry. I’ll be in to see you soon.”

“ _It’s okay. Goodnight, Mom, Emma, love you both. I’m taking Bulldozer to bed with me._ ”

“Goodnight, Henry, I love you – and don’t let Bulldozer under your covers,” Regina says, hand pressing up against the wall as a spark zings through her for a moment.

“Love you too, kid!” Emma puts in, before Regina disappears into the bathroom to clean herself up, still feeling the aftershocks. “That was a close one.”

“One of many firsts, I suspect,” Regina mutters as she turns the shower on. “Join me? I think it’s about time I returned the favour. I’ll even out the equation.”

Emma is quick to follow her inside.

* * *

After Zelena has the potion, she rages and a blonde man, who stinks of death magic and decay, appears to calm her. Harry, realising that the man is quite clearly in love with his sister – though if _Harry_ can see it, logically the man must be fucking _whipped_ and transparent as hell about it – watches with narrowed eyes from the sidelines, eating mint ice-cream that Zelena had offered for dessert after a lovely roast dinner. The man, quickly revealed to be Hades, follows Zelena around the room at a slow pace, eventually finding his way close to her side. When he goes to take her hand, Harry decides to be a buzzkill.

“Not to interrupt,” Harry watches Hades snap to attention with a low-burning joy, “but what are your intentions towards my sister?”

“What?” Zelena snaps, growling, “You can’t ask him that. He _has_ no intentions – I’ve made it perfectly clear already to him that his love isn’t wanted.”

Harry pauses. “I think it’s my brotherly duty, actually, but really? You’ve already dumped him?” Harry frowns, looking to Hades, who narrows his eyes at him. “Question, is she just being stubborn about this, or are you actively trying to woo her, knowing that she already knows?”

“The latter, rather than the former, though I have high hopes it’s a mixture.”

As Zelena and Hades argue, Harry debates, before nodding to himself, humming.

“Zelena?”

They stop arguing. “What?” She snaps, glaring at him.

Harry points at Hades with his ice-cream spoon. “I like him. He’s a god and therefore, powerful enough to keep you safe adequately. Also, we belong to the same organisation.”

“I beg your pardon?” Hades looks at him with some small amusement, raising his eyebrow. Harry gives a grim smile, before taking out the Elder wand, watching how Hades’ eyes stick to it like glue before falling on his stone-jewelled ring and thinking it quite interesting that it’s only when the wand comes out, that people realise the Resurrection Stone is in plain sight.

He draws his symbol in the air, red flames flickering the same way that _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ had in the Chamber of Secrets, little under twenty years ago.

“Hello, Hades. I’m the Master of Death and I’m going to help you woo my sister.”


	20. interlude ii

Elsewhere (in the Enchanted Forest)

Aurora’s awakening is a different kind of kick in the teeth, to being actually kicked in the teeth.

Mulan watches Aurora and Phillip together as they journey through the Enchanted Forest and of course, she’s happy for them, but there’s something to Aurora – like the way her eyes are large and blue and her hair this strange colour which is brown, yet blonde. She wears soft silks and barely complains about travelling, but she’s quite naïve and while Phillip takes to teaching her some things – and oh, something in her twists at the way they interact, as if they’re the only things that exist in this world, both so _in love with each other_ – Mulan teaches her too.

Female hygiene in the wild is one of the few things Phillip had no knowledge of until he took Mulan into his company and while he knows now, he still directs Aurora to her each and every three and a half weeks. Aurora, who is used to servants cleaning and attending to her, used to soft beds and heated water-skins. Aurora, who stops coming to her every three weeks only four months into their trek south and west.

Mulan meets Aurora’s eyes, sometimes, when she seems to have the words on the tip of her tongue, trying to tell Phillip that she’s with child – _when did they even have the **time?** – _ and Aurora bites her lip, remaining quiet as Phillip continues to chatter on. Phillip does that a lot, chatting. Mulan had thought it strange in the beginning and now she’s used to it and so very grateful. When there’s no silence to fill, there’s no reason for Aurora to blurt out their happy news and there’s no reason for Phillip to think it strange that Mulan doesn’t congratulate them both.

One day, she scouts far, far ahead, promising to return to them before sundown.

Mulan takes the opportunity to cry, to shed her tears and shed her stupid feelings for a girl that is the ladylove of her best friend.

* * *

Elsewhere (in Number 12, Grimmauld Place)

“You’re looking lovely, Andy,” Narcissa murmurs over a cup of tea. Andromeda gives a small smile.

“You look prettier.”

“I _am_ prettier,” her baby sister gives a short grin and Andromeda grins back, Narcissa’s confidence always a promise that she is okay. Her veil isn’t on today and the only silver piece of clothing she wears – silver, for the Malfoy’s, for poor, dead, poisoned Lucius – is her high, banded earring, but Andromeda doubts Narcissa would ever take it off. _It was Lucius’ first courting gift,_ Andromeda remembers wistfully, sipping her own tea. “There’s someone more beautiful, however, or so I’ve heard.”

“Oh? Pray tell, who might they be, so I might scar their beautiful face horribly in your name?” Andromeda questions, getting a small shake of the head in reply.

“The _Quibbler_ , you know the paper?”

“Who doesn’t?” Andromeda snorts.

“Well,” Narcissa sets her tea down – Andromeda quickly copying, because if Narcissa is putting down her tea, then that is a sign that Andromeda will _spit_ once Narcissa finishes her sentence, “a dragon of a woman, quite literally, by the name of _Maleficent_ was on the front cover, this morning.”

“…I beg your pardon,” Andromeda stares, before bringing out her wand, summoning the awaiting copy from her doorstep, yet to be picked up. The cover is it’s usual blinding yellow and purple, swirling and sparkling, but Narcissa was telling the truth – there is a woman on the front cover and oh, she could definitely compete for her sisters title of Witch Weekly’s _Most Beautiful Witch in the World._ Truth be told, her only possible detracting feature is her wide mouth and well…the dark purple lipstick certainly accentuates how much it suits her.

Settled in a chestnut wingback, Maleficent looks for all the word, powerful, the magic of wizarding newspapers affording her the benefit of a dastardly wink – yet she’s sitting languidly, a cat of a witch. _Dragon_ , Andromeda corrects herself, eyes dipping down to her visible cleavage, the moving image of the witch fiddling with the fourth button of her aubergine oxford shirt.

“There’s a large centrefold print, if you want a bigger version, Andy,” Narcissa’s voice is full of amusement and she lets out a small laugh that has Andromeda slamming the magazine onto the lounge-seat beside her. “Don’t stop because I’m here.”

Andromeda opens her mouth to reply, but realises, like the little shit that her sister is, Narcissa has rearranged herself to fully emulate Maleficent’s pose on their great uncle’s wingback chair. For a moment, she’s struck dumb, but then she growls and grabs the magazine again, flipping to the centrefold.

“I don’t know why _Witch Weekly_ named you _Most Beautiful_ , Cissy, when you’re clearly _Most Sinful._ ”

“I was _Most Sinful_ for two full decades and you know the only reason I’m not anymore is because that damn Weasley chit’s got her hands on the entire team of Harpies.”

“Your son probably had an aneurysm when he realised how many people fucked themselves with your cut-out in front of them.”

Narcissa laughs, “Oh, Draco avoided writing to me for an entire two terms in his fourth year. You should have seen Lucius whenever he got worked up about it.”

Andromeda looks up from her centrefold then, eyes tearing away from Maleficent’s _bloody sinful legs_ to look at her sister – but Narcissa is strong. She had to be, with everything life has thrown at her. Her eyes are hard and her face blank, but Andromeda can’t see her hand shaking as it lifts up, curling over her earring.

_She’ll survive this._

Narcissa meets her eyes, as if replying to say, _I always do._

* * *

Elsewhere (in Wizarding Heritage Department, Second Above Floor, Gringotts)

Gornuck works in silence. The only noise in his office is that of the owl door opening and shutting rapidly, as Gringotts’ beady-eyed, silver-taloned hawk-owls flutter in and out with letters, placing them in a special sorting tray. Gornuck likes the silence – it allows him to think, unlike his peers, who work better with loud chatter, sounds of battle and or constant clicking – the latter being a pleasant fill-in for the dwarves’ constant mining, below ground.

 _To know that humans think we mine_ , Gornuck sighs, before signing off yet another birth certificate from St Mungos, a copy shimmering and disappearing back to the hospital. _A small price of pride to pay, so as to keep the dwarves’ privacy and treaty intact._

A ding comes from a nearby filing cabinet, Gornuck making his way over as it continues to sound, opening it up. The _Potter_ file glows and Gornuck raises an eyebrow sharply, taking it out, the dinging ceasing as he returns with the file to his desk. Putting on his human-translator glasses, so as to read the horrible scribble the wizards deign to call _official quill calligraphy_ , Gornuck reviews the file. At first, he doesn’t understand why the file has been brought to his attention, so he reads it again – the second time reviewing the file brings more answers.

Gornuck reads the change out aloud, trying to think of a way to phrase it in a letter to Mr Potter, his half-human side weighing up whether the necessity of informing clients of changes to their accounts and the necessity of informing clients of changes to their inheritors comes first or second.

“Regina Mills, Vassal of House Potter, blood-sibling to the Head of House Potter, has now a child by both blood and magic. This adoption places Edward Remus Lupin second in line to inherit the Potter Estate rather than first, as Henry Daniel Mills takes superiority in Heir Affairs.” Gornuck’s human side argues that it’s quite unfair, however, his goblin side points out that the stupid human laws are still laws, no matter how idiotic they might be.

Gornuck returns the file and begins to draft a letter to Harry James Potter.

* * *

“Luna, I don’t like the idea of this,” Red holds Luna’s hand tightly as she leads her out into the woods, deeper than she’s ever been before. “What if I change and attack you?”

“Then I’ll be a werewolf,” Luna replies, halting as Red goes to tug her to a stop. “You don’t have to trust me, but I’m sure your wolf would rather eat wolfsbane and die before hurting me, ever. I’m your mate, Rose.”

Red hugs Luna tightly, burrowing her nose in her neck, where a deep, dark hickey from the night previous bruises her skin. “I know, I know you are. I’d never hurt you. I trust you. I’m just terrified that I’m going to be… _wild_.”

Luna runs her hand through Red’s dark mahogany curls, humming an old lullaby she remembers from when she was little. Red starts swaying them a little and Luna changes their position, taking one of her hands and putting the other on her waist, still swaying, standing chest to chest with her girlfriend as they dance. Red follows on quickly, letting Luna twirl her once, twice-

Red laughs as Luna keeps spinning her, “Going to stop any time soon, honey?”

“Yes,” Luna smiles, before tripping the dizzy werewolf into her arms, dipping her in a surprising show of strength. Red wraps her arms around her neck, reaching up to kiss Luna briefly, before being set down on the ground. “Lie there for me, please?”

“Anything for you,” Red watches as Luna kneels beside her, reaching into one of her deep dungaree pockets as her sandals slip sideways off her feet. “I love you.”

“I love you, as well. I spent the past few years with Ruby Lucas, but she’s as much you as Rose Red is,” Luna replies serenely, bringing out a bundle of bracelets and rings on a piece of twine. “Pick your favourite, of both.”

Red peers at them, working through the selection, not once grimacing. “No silver,” she notes.

“No silver. Only steel and bronze,” Luna nods.

“These ones,” Red picks out a thin steel chain that glimmers in the evening sunlight, light reflecting off tiny chips of red garnet every fifth link and a bronze ring, rimmed with glass-like slivers of amber. “Why?”

Luna doesn’t reply, taking Red’s chosen pieces of jewellery off and placing the others back in her pockets. Then, she puts the chain around Red’s wrist, who feels a tingle of magic.

“What is it?”

“It’ll grow and shrink with you,” Luna promises, before holding up the bronze ring. “Will you marry me?”

Red’s eyes widen and she sits up, nearly knocking heads with her girlfriend, who barely moves her head back enough in time to avoid it.

“You want to marry me? But I- but I’ve only _really_ known you for two days!”

“No, you’ve known me for years,” Luna replies airily. “I just have to get to know the true you and I will always love you, no matter our circumstances, I promise. Even if the Black Fairy were to curse us, I would love you.”

“I won’t admit to knowing who the Black Fairy is,” Red starts, swallowing, “but you…you’d really want to marry me? You wouldn’t want to wait?”

“My father won’t die for another six years,” Luna says sadly. “We have worlds and time enough.”

Red swears quietly, under her breath, before kissing Luna, offering a silent apology and sympathy, Luna’s hands tangling in her hair as the ring drops between them. Eventually, they lay their foreheads against the others forehead, Red picking up the ring and offering it to Luna.

“Marry me?”

“Yes.”

* * *

Elsewhere (in the Enchanted Forest) – and Elsewhen

“-hey wait, there’s my Auntie Ava, we can ask her,” Tom runs up to his aunt on the street, followed by his friend. “Hey, Auntie Ava, how was Princess Emma born if her parents didn’t have sex before their wedding?”

Ava Gretel glances at her nephew, snorting. “Do they teach you anything in those schools? True Love can do more than just break Curses.”

The tallest of Tom’s friends, George, pipes up. “So it can knock people up?”

“Only if they both want a kid, apparently. Grace and I never want kids, so we’re not going to randomly knock each other up when we’re kissing.” Ava Gretel eyes George, “Though with your reputation, I’d be surprised if you didn’t have some brats somewhere.”

George glares, “I might be a slut, but don’t go round spreading that shit. I’m in an open relationship with my significant other and the only kid I have is with them, thank-you very much.”

Ava Gretel puts her hands up best she can with baskets in her arms. “Hey, they’re just rumours, kid.”

Tom rolls his eyes, “So, can it only knock you up if you kiss your True Love and you both want children?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m shit at magic,” Ava Gretel shakes her head. “Though my brother should know more. He and your dad never had a surrogate, you know.”

“I _know_. That’s why we’re _asking_ ,” Tom rolls his eyes. “He’s too fucking shy and Dad doesn’t _do_ sex.”

“Well, you’d get used to the idea that sex would be fucking repulsive if you were two inches tall for the majority of your life-”


	21. stalemate i

The banging on her door in the early hours of the morning wakes the entire house up. Rising – leaving Emma to flounder, confused and tired in their bed with Grim and Charlie, _gods **our** bed_ – Regina grabs her silk dressing gown and makes her way downstairs, picking up Lily as she wanders to follow her, rubbing her eyes.

“Mama, who’s at the door?” she asks as muffled shouts filter through the house. Regina slows on her way down the stairs as the yelling becomes clearer, calling for her, saying they’d break the door down if she didn’t come out. Hiking Lily further up onto her hip, the queen doesn’t answer, finishing her descent before twisting to face the door, Frankenstein’s voice becoming clearer by the second.

“Lily, the people outside are angry and you’re to stay in my arms, do you understand me?” Regina says, wiping her eyes of any residual sand as Lily nods, burrowing her head in Regina’s neck. Approaching the door, she opens it, taking only a small amount of joy from how Frankenstein jerks back. “What do you want?”

Frankenstein looks like he wants to shout, but his eyes flicker to Lily, some townspeople muttering behind him. “Put the girl inside, Regina.”

“No,” Regina replies lowly, voice still gravelly from sleep. “Your banging woke her up. You can deal with it and any consequences that come from waking up a dragon early.”

Frankenstein’s brow furrows. “Dragon?”

“I’m a dragon,” Lily grumbles, before blowing a tiny spout of fire towards him. Frankenstein jumps back, tripping over the steps up to her backdoor and falling back onto the ground. Regina grimaces as he doesn’t get up, eyes rolling back in his head,

“Get the trash off my front yard,” she orders the villagers. “Most likely, he’s got a concussion.” There’s a tense silence before another man rushes forwards, quickly followed by others. Regina shuts her door, locking it for good measure. _I expected a far worse ending to such a confrontation._ It occurs to her then that most likely, that would _not_ be the last rioters Regina would see.

“What was that about?” Emma asks as she comes down the stairs. Regina shakes her head, reaching for her hand. Emma takes it after a moment and using her as a jumpstart, Regina uses her own magic to create a ward around the house – kicking out the dozen and a half lifeforms outside, off her lawn. Their yells catch Emma’s attention though and she takes her hand away. “What the hell?” the Saviour goes to the door, looking through the windows to see them all in a giant pile outside her gate. “Why are people here?”

“Not in front of Lily,” Regina says, before glancing up to see if Henry was joining them. From the lack of sound coming from his room, Regina guesses that he’s dead to the world, asleep. “Breakfast?” she offers.

“…sure,” Emma agrees, before Lily reaches out to her. Taking her from Regina – who inwardly thanks the woman as Lily is getting heavier every day – they make their way to the kitchen, Lily pressing a big kiss to Emma’s nose.

“Emma, why don’t you turn into a dragon?”

“‘Cause I’m not a dragon, kiddo,”

“But you’ve got a Fire,” Lily insists, Emma giving her an amused look, shaking her head and denying it. However, Regina freezes in the middle of taking eggs from the fridge. _The Apprentice…potential for darkness…Lily can sense a Fire in Emma…_

“Regina?” Emma questions, seeing her go still. Regina snaps back into action, putting the eggs back in the fridge and going to the landline phone on the wall, taking it and calling Mal Smith’s number – she had memories of a Cursed life too and Mal was one of her few friends. Her telephone number is seared into her brain. “What happened to breakfast?”

“Have cereal,” Regina says sharply, leaning on the wall, looking away from Emma and Lily as Maleficent picks up, sounding as if being phoned was funny.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“I need you to come over here, as soon as possible,” Regina says curtly.

Immediately Maleficent is far more worried than amused. “ _I’ll be there soon. Is something wrong with Lily?_ ”

“You could say that. I think I know what _he_ did,” Regina says, before hanging up abruptly, clenching her fist. A cool rage flows through her because _Emma having Fire doesn’t make sense_. _How could she have a Fire? What does this mean for Lily? Is she getting magic confused, or is she recognising another dragon? Is she recognising her own magic? If Emma has Fire, how isn’t she dying? How isn’t she **dead**?_

“What was that about, do you think, kiddo?” Emma questions Lily.

“Don’t know. I’m not sick. Can I have the coloured circles for breakfast?”

* * *

The doorbell rings and Henry groans, but gets up, making his way downstairs and answering the door before anyone else can. Outside is his teacher, Miss Blanchard… _Snow White_ , he corrects himself, checking the hall clock. _Why didn’t mom wake me up? School started ages ago._

“Hello Henry,” Snow greets cautiously, looking nervous. Henry spies David Nolan – aka, Prince Charming, his grandfather – by the gate, looking stiff. “Is your mom home?”

“Which one?” Henry lifts his chin.

“Both. Regina. I don’t really know, Henry. There’s a lot of stuff we need to talk about and what Regina’s done…Charming can’t get passed the wards she’s got around this place.”

“Why can you then?” Henry furrows his brow, Snow sighing.

“He wants Emma away from her. You, too. He wants you all to be safe from the Evil Queen.”

“My mom isn’t evil,” Henry snaps, before feeling his mother’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing. He glances back and up at her face. “Mom?”

“It’s alright, Henry. Actually, I believe that your grandparents have perfect timing – Maleficent’s coming over.”

“Really?” Henry perks up, eyes widening. “Can I-”

“Maleficent isn’t coming for socialisation,” she interrupts, before Henry feels a…tug and he feels warm and fuzzy, before he sees his mother snap her fingers. The feeling dissipates. _Did mom just use me as a jumpstart, like Emma yesterday?_ “David, you may enter the premises, but trust that the wards _will_ kick you out if you try anything.”

Henry watches his grandfather enter warily, opening and closing the gate before making his way to Snow’s side and Henry notices the sword on his hip for the first time.

“Leave that outside, please,” Regina says sharply. Stiffly, he takes it from his belt, brushing past his wife to lay it on the bench by the door. “Come on inside. Henry, there are pancakes in the oven.”

“Cool,” Henry spares a last glance for Snow and David before hurrying inside, pushing up his flannel pyjama arms, smiling at the sight of Emma and Lily at the island table. “Morning!”

Emma glances over, smile widening. “Hey, kid. Your mom made pancakes.”

“She said,” Henry gets out a plate from the cupboard, before retrieving said pancakes and making a tower, peanut butter and strawberry jam on every level. He stubbornly ignores the adults as his mom enters with Snow and David, digging in and sharing with Lily when she reaches out jammy hands. Emma leaves with them to the next room after some stilted hellos, Regina asking him to keep an eye on his sister.

Finishing his pancakes, Henry helps Lily down from the tall island table before following her to the door as the doorbell rings. After peering through the window to see Maleficent, Henry unlocks the door, Lily squealing at the sight of her.

“Mommy!” Lily jumps into her arms, Maleficent grinning as arms latch around her neck.

“Hi,” Henry waves, stepping aside to let her in.

“Hello, young Prince Henry,” Maleficent smiles cordially. “You may call me Mal, if that suits you.”

“Alright, Auntie Mal,” Henry replies with a sunny smile, which turns into a grin as the dragon makes a disbelieving face. Shutting the front door, Henry takes her hand and drags Mal through the house to where he can hear Emma talking, sounding upset. Entering the living room, Henry clears his throat, feeling Mal’s hand tighten around his as she takes in their other visitors.

“Regina,” she purrs as Charming stands in front of Snow protectively. “I didn’t realise you had other guests.”

“Oh, they’re uninvited,” Regina replies, crossing her arms. Henry doesn’t need to be an adult to know she doesn’t like his grandparents being here. “However, it makes sense to get this over and done with now, rather than later.”

“They separated Lily from me,” Mal hisses, Lily herself frowning and looking over at Snow and David with a frown, who glance at each other in confusion. “You two so-called do-gooders stole my baby from me and got her sent to another realm!”

“We didn’t know what he was going to do-” David starts, defensive, before Maleficent growls deep in her throat, frightening Henry. Accidentally, he squeezes her hand and she stops abruptly, even as Lily begins to growl right alongside her, making him relax. The dragon glances down at him stiffly and Henry wonders if she cares that he was afraid, before Regina speaks tersely.

“Lily said something interesting this morning about Emma and how she has _Fire_.”

Henry doesn’t really know what his mom is talking about – but obviously, by the way Maleficent’s head snaps up, _she_ does.

“ _That’s_ why she smells like a hybrid? Oh, if I ever meet the Apprentice again, I will burn him alive.”

“Hybrid?” Henry questions, confused.

Maleficent glances at him again, before explaining quickly. “I thought it was a fluke, because Regina wasn’t involved in the nesting phase like usual magical partners. Dragons born of humans are either full dragons or hybrids, but they can only be hybrids when their other parent does not have magic or, as I originally thought, weren’t involved in nesting the egg. However, obviously, the Apprentice has meddled and sent part of Lily’s dragon Fire into Princess Emma, here.”

“Wait, what?” Emma questions as Henry’s eyes widen. “Is she okay? Oh my god.” Henry watches his biological mother grip Regina’s hand, looking at Lily with fear.

“Is she?” Snow asks, worried too. _Bad idea,_ Henry thinks as Maleficent glares at her.

“Stay out of it, Snow White. You’ve done enough harm. What did the Apprentice actually do? What happened?”

“He- he used magic to transfer two different magics between them. It was to do with Emma’s potential for darkness.”

Maleficent growls again, but this time, she draws Henry into his side and rather than scared, he feels warm – really warm. Heat radiates from Maleficent and Henry glances at his mothers, but neither seems worried. Henry glances up at the dragon woman. _Is this what it’s like to have an aunt or just a dragon for an aunt?_

As she speaks next, there’s a slightly sarcastic lilt to her voice, bitterness coating the edges. “It’s not as if the Apprentice knows _absolutely nothing_ about dragonkind. Not even Regina would know and she’s the closest any human has gotten to learning dragon secrets in hundreds of years. Even Rumplestiltskin can only extrapolate from what information _I_ give him. The Apprentice should never have tried to manipulate potential or the future like he did.”

“What did he do?” Emma moves forwards a little, looking Maleficent in the eyes. “Can it be fixed?”

“The Apprentice, more than likely, tried to slice into each of your magical deposits and bind the so-called ‘light’ part to you and the ‘dark’ to Lily – however, Lily is a dragon. I can only guess what actually happened. Lily can sense her Fire in you and it hasn’t been awoken.” Maleficent looks to Snow, hitching Lily higher on her hip and creeping her arm around Henry’s shoulders, letting go of his hand. “This happened when you were pregnant and Lily was in her egg, yes?”

Something strikes Henry then, even as Snow speaks. _Maleficent read the Book, she knows what happened, there were pictures…_

“Yes. Lily had begun to hatch when she dropped through the portal with Cruella and Ursula,” Snow says nervously, holding David’s sleeve. _Maleficent already knows that_ , Henry thinks, not understanding why- _Oh. They’re telling the truth, the real story from the Book. Maybe Maleficent was waiting for them to lie, or to see if they would try something. They were the villains, when they should have been heroes. It’s nice to know that Grandma’s not trying to fake her way into Maleficent’s good graces._ It makes more sense to Henry, when he puts it like that, making a lot more sense than before.

“But if I might ask,” Snow continues, frowning, “how…Lily, you’re holding her. How? She should be older than Emma, by now.”

“Only a few months older,” Emma mutters, eyes flickering to them before Regina hisses her name and she quiets. Henry watches Emma and his mom have a conversation with their eyes, being matched by Snow and David before Emma nods, continuing in her silence.

“The transfer settled long ago,” Maleficent pronounces and Henry glances up to see her pressing her forehead to Lily’s, whispering to her in a strange language that Lily replies in, eyes slipping shut. “There is a bond between the both of you. A good thing, considering your relationship with Regina. If I may, Regina, Emma, I would like to weave a connection between Henry and Lily.”

“Weave a what, now?” Emma questions, Henry furrowing his brow at the same time she does.

“Mal…” Regina starts, surprisingly gentle in her obvious surprise. “Would you really?”

Maleficent nods, bringing her forehead from Lily’s, the girl blinking before wiggling to be let down. “No, Lily, it’s not safe while Snow White and Prince James are here.”

 _James?_ Henry glances at David, who stiffens slightly.

The dragon looks to Regina. “Lily is ours, Emma and Henry are yours – it would be logical and if anything happened to either of you, I would be able to take care of him in your absence…” Henry frowns deeper, her words running through his head in circles.

“How?” he questions. “How would you look after me if it were me and Lily being connected?”

“Henry,” his mom speaks, “Perhaps we should wait until Snow and David are absent. I believe their business here is done, if they have nothing left to say.”

“I’d like to apologise,” Snow immediately says, stepping in front of David to speak to Maleficent, face set. “You asked for my help and I betrayed your trust. I got two of your friends sent to another realm as well as your only child and that can never be forgiven, I know, but I’m still sorry and I always will be. I think it’s amazing that you get another chance with her,” at that, Snow looks to Lily in Maleficent’s arms, who is playing with her necklace, what Henry knows is the last of her egg.

“I hear nothing from your beloved,” Maleficent replies in a cold voice.

“I was trying to protect my family,” David argues. “I’m sorry we were tricked by the Apprentice and that you had to pay the price for it, but I’m not sorry for what happened or how.”

* * *

Regina has a funny feeling that if David says any more, he’s going to be burned alive, so quickly, she shuffles the Charmings out of her house, leaving Mal in the living room to tell Henry what the bonding would mean. It amazes her that Mal would wish to go through with it – children are precious to dragons, or more specifically, children are precious to Maleficent, but even then…

 _Binding Lily and Henry together can only be done if Maleficent claims Henry as her own, like…well, like I did, last night._ Regina knows that to dragons, adoption like that is still adoption, but there are many facets that might not make sense. Dragons are not human. Henry would be bound to Maleficent and Maleficent to Henry, as well as Lily to Henry and vice versa. Maybe Maleficent would claim Emma too by proxy, through both Henry and Regina – gods knew that Regina still felt her bond to Maleficent, fresh as the day it was created. _I wonder if Maleficent would teach me how to tie myself to Lily, like it should have been._

“Regina,” Snow starts when they go through her doorway. “You can’t keep everyone out forever, or keep anyone in. You’ll have to face justice eventually.”

The queen sneers at the warning, even as legitimate as it is. “You might not be aware, Snow, but my allies have only increased since the Curse was cast.”

“I know. Having the son of Rumplestiltskin on your side, claiming to be your brother, must be quite something,” Snow says, raising her chin in a way that abruptly reminds Regina of Henry, when he feels rebellious. Regina crosses her arms with a glare. _I’m going to marry her daughter, just to see her squirm._

“Sons,” she snaps, correcting her. “The whole reason Rumplestiltskin gave me the Dark Curse was so we ended up here, in this realm, where Baelfire found himself living. So no, I don’t just have Harry, I have him too – and all their magical friends.”

David picks up his sword, glaring at her, “We’ve met one. She stole Red.”

“Red was not stolen from you by Luna Lovegood,” Regina narrows her eyes before tugging at her dressing gown, fixing the sash up again. “Luna is an amazing person and Red is lucky to have her for a partner. The only person who might have stolen Red from you is Harry – he’s protective of those he considers family. _Very_ protective.” Which reminds her of something important. _What happened to Harry’s wards from yesterday? I need to consult Jefferson, perhaps. Harry has magic that is his and his alone, though he might be able to access the magic of magical realms because of his birth parents. Perhaps he brings his magic with him when he realm-hops._

“If you see her,” Snow starts, slightly pleading, “Would you remind her that she swore an oath? It’s to do with Emma.”

Regina narrows her eyes, trying to think of why Red might swear an oath over Emma. “I haven’t seen her. Full moon was last night and Luna took her to the woods. If she turns up, I…may remind her. No promises.”

“Hopefully, she won’t need a reminder, if she actually cares,” David mutters bitterly, before taking Snow’s hand. “Come on, Snow. We’ve no more business with the Evil Queen.”

They leave and Regina watches them go. Then, she realises. Red was Snow’s sister in all but blood.

_Red swore the Patroness Oath._

Or, in other words, Red is Emma’s godmother.


End file.
